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mrsmnsn · 8 months ago

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“Will you forgive me, please?”

Warnings: angst; eddie and reader are in a one year relationship; reader almost burst from stress; verbal fight; happy ending (the only right way, cuz i can’t stand when it ends sadly:)), no use of y/n (she is referred as sweetie/sweetheart), let me know if i’m missing something something

wc: 1.9k

summary: Reader is going crazy with how much is going on on her life. Studying for the final exams, work with terrible people. But on a weekend, when Eddie comes without warning you, you both fought for the first time in your relationship.

Being Eddie's girlfriend was the best part of your life. You loved him and the way he treated you. You've been together for a year now and, between this time, you got to know all sides of him. Goofy, funny, kind, sexy. But you've never seen him get mad. Pissed? Of course! All the time, he would be complaining about things or cursing other people who were assholes with him. But he was never mad, at least not with you.

But there was one specific time when you were having a terrible week. With the final exams, not to mention you mentoring other students, you were one step away from losing it. And there was your boss giving you the same speech all week because one of your co-workers snitched you for kissing your boyfriend at work. It was just a smooch!

"This girl's a bitch. Probably never touched a dick in her life!" That's what Eddie said to you.

But, by the end of the week, you were on edge. And being busy all the time, you never got the chance to spend a single minute with your boyfriend. But he would have to wait, the finals were more important now. Eddie didn't seem to agree. He showed up at your door with movies in his hands.

"Hey sweetie, i'm sorry i'm a little late. Had to kick some ass to get out of Family Video" You just hummed, trying to understand what was wrong with your calculus. "I'm great, thanks for asking!"

On his way he, unfortunately, met Jason at the same place. He didn't actually fought him, just some heated exchange of words. It got him a little pissed, but he was going to spend the night with you, so he pretended that he was fine. He was hoping that you would make him feel better.

"Eddie you can put the movie, i don't mind, but i'll not pay attention. I really need to review this"

"Yeah sweetheart, whatever you say" Of course. He was not listening, looking for some candies in your cabinet.

He sat by your side and kept talking to you. You were trying so hard not to cut him off, you really missed him, but you couldn't allow yourself that privilege of five minutes making out with him. So by the end of the first movie he brought, he started to say some curious facts about it but you let out a groan. "Fuck. Why physics were so hard?” You thought to yourself.

"Alright, stop. What the fuck? I've be trying to talk to you for the whole week, but you were too busy. Now that is your time to relax you're going to keep studying?" He said with a serious tone. At first you were quiet, waiting for him to calm down so you would not fight. But he said, louder this time "Say something, damn it!"

"What do you want me to say Eddie? I need to-" you were cut out

"Please, don't you think you studied enough? The whole week, is all you've been doing. You’re gonna burst into flames from thinking too much."He was now facing you, your book long forgotten as the both of you started to lose it.

"Well, for some of us, the constancy is required! I am not doing very good in this subject. I'm just trying to do my best and you should be doing the same." He shifted his body and giggled in a sarcastic way.

"Oh yes, let's remember that i was held back. So original. That's very dirty bellow the belt of you sweetheart." His facial expression was full of disappointment and anger.

"Can you not contort my words? I said as you should be doing your best too so you don't get held back again!" You regretted the time you said it. It was dirty of you and his eyes were not looking into yours anymore. "I know i was not very present this week, but can't you just wait 'till the goddamn exams to end. I don't know what happened for you be so rude but you shouldn't be taking it out on me!"

He was not looking at you, fidgeting with his rings, thinking of the right thing to say so you could stop fighting.

"All i wanted was to spend time with you, what the fuck is wrong with that?"

"There's nothing wrong, is just that i told you that i needed to get good at this."

"That's the fucking point, there's nothing to get better at, you've been working on it for so long, there is nothing new to see! Fuck, you’re not even answering when i talked to you."

"Stop being fucking dramatic Eddie! Do you think i like this, the way that i'm on the edge right now? Fighting with my boyfriend and friends, not having a fucking second to breathe because it feels like everything i do is wrong?"

"And i am the one dramatic. Let me give you a heads up. It's not the end of the fucking world if you fail a test. Besides, you couldn't do it even if you tried. You had to have sucked in the other tests to be held back, like me."

"Oh my god! Why don't you grow up a little and see how this is important to me? Look, we both are angry for some reason and are not in conditions to talk. I think is the best for the both of you for you to leave. So we don't hurt ourselves anymore."

"You always have to be so good and solve every damn problem, right? Only so in the end i can be the bad guy. Honestly, why are you the one to say what we should or shouldn't do?"

"Because it's my fucking house and i want you to leave!"

At this point, after wrestling and yelling at each other, you were with tears in your eyes panting without knowing what to do. Eddie gulped, stepped back and, not saying a word, he left.

The tears were rolling down your cheeks. Now there was no way you would focus on physics. You regretted so much. All the words said in the heat of the moment. You didn't mean any of them. And he probably didn't. You both said things to hurt each other in order to be right. Eddie was definitely upset about something, not just the lack of your attention. But now was not the time to find out.

——————

After a week, you finish every school exam and were finally free from school. And back in work, your co-worker was fired. She was caught fucking a random guy that you didn’t know on the boss’s office . “Guess Eddie was wrong” you thought giggling but getting upset the second after. You both have been avoiding each other. Eddie didn’t want to bother you and you didn’t want to hurt him. But it was time. You were tired of tearing up every time you remembered your fight.

So, at the end of your shift, you drove to the trailer park. It was the first time you fought and you hated. The feeling was that, at any second, you would lose him.

Knocking at his door, you stood there, waiting for him.

“Coming.” You heard his muffled voice. When he opened the door, he had an annoyed expression that shifted to a concerned one once he saw it was you. He was shirtless, wet hair and sweatpants that hung low on his hips. You didn’t know if it was because of the long week not seeing him, but he looked incredibly handsome. “Hey” It was the only thing he could say, surprised by your appearance.

“Hi… Can we talk.” You said hesitant, not knowing where to start.

“Sure. Please” He opened the door wider letting you in. Guiding you on the couch, where you both sat in awkward silence. It didn’t even look like you two were together for a long time. “I assume you’re here to talk about last weekend.” You nodded trying your best not to cry already which was really hard because of the way he looked at you.

“Look Eddie, i don’t even know where to start. We both lost our senses and said terrible things we shouldn’t. I honestly feel like-“ A feeling you grew accustomed in the past week grew in your throat. You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “I felt like i was losing my mind and that everything i was doing was wrong. You were right. I was taking too much at once and i couldn’t take it.”

“No no no. Sweetheart, i was the wrong one. I was worried about you and my own shit and i put that on your shoulders.” He said whipping your cheeks. “And as i usually do, to run away from my problems, i pretended that none of that was happening and didn’t realize how important studying was for you. I am truly sorry for that and for the fight.”

You hugged him tightly. His hands surrounded your waist and his nose nestled on your neck, sniffing your sent. He’d missed you deeply. “I’m sorry too” you said softly and moving away just enough to see his face. “I just want you to know that i don’t meant shit from what i’ve said. That was awful of me. I felt awful. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course i forgive you, sweetie. I was supposed to be the one apologizing. I also didn’t mean any of that crap. You forgive me too?” He said giving you a smirk that made you giggle.

“Yes. But only if you tell me why you were so worked up that night.”

“Oh shit, you’re right. My week was not great either. You know how much i hate finals. Before going to yours, i stopped at Family Video and i met with Jason Carver. And well, you know the story, he calls me a freak and i pretend that he hurt my feelings. But that night, he started to talk shit about us, like you were way out of my league. And until then i was like, tell me something i don’t know. But then the son of a bitch called you a whore and that you probably sold yourself for one fuck in exchange for a review of any subject. And i was like “what the fuck dude?”. I just lost my mind. Thank the metal gods that Steve stopped me from beating his face.”

“Oh my god! You could have told me” You don’t even know why you said that. You literally fought because you were too into your studies.

“It’s alright. He normally doesn’t piss me off. But I just can’t accept him talking shit about you. As if he knew you enough to call you a whore.”

The good thing is that you got back to normal and cuddled for the rest of the day. Eddie wanted to stay close to you as much as he could, so he asked begged for you to stay over. So here you were, before going to sleep telling how much you loved each other.

“Good night baby” Even in the dark room, you could see his beautiful eyes looking at you with so much love

“Good night Eds” Closing your eyes ready to sleep, felling your man’s hand caressing you, you were sure that you were in heaven. Out of the sudden you remembered.

“Eds!” You turned fast to him scaring him a little “You won’t believe what happened.”

“What?” Poor man, he was half asleep. You giggled at his confused face.

“Apparently, that girl from work did a lot more than touching dick…”

“I told you she was a bitch. A man knows”

“Shut up”

*if you have any ideas/request/sugestions; please sent it to me, my inbox is open. :)

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie x you #angst with a happy ending #light angst #angst

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reidsaurora · 2 years ago

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"Overnight" ~ S. Reid

Summary: When Spencer offers to clear out a drawer for Y/N in his dresser, it has him explaining some things he'd been hiding from her.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader (i think? i don't remember using pronouns in this lol)

Word Count: 814 why is she so short

Content Warning: allusions to sex but nothing in detail, mild mentions of nudity i guess, this whole fic is basically aftercare lol, lmk if i missed anything!

Genre: Fluff, what else did you expect out of me?

Extra Notes: i truly meant for this to be posted on time, i'm so sorry guys

Based On the Prompt: "The Things In That Drawer" from this year's @domaystic prompts

Originally Written: 05/08/2023

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold (i love you literally so much)

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Nothing could get Spencer Reid in a sappy mood like a night of slow, passionate sex. Something about moments like these—the way he showered you in kisses, the sweet compliments he'd give you, the love he'd show you—just felt right. Like his embrace was exactly where you needed to be.

Spencer's hand settled on the soft skin of your hip, drawing various shapes with his fingertips. Your head rested against his chest, your hand moving up to his tummy. He placed a soft kiss on your hair, the scruff of his five-o'clock shadow scratching against your forehead lightly. "I love nights like this," he told you.

You craned your head to face him, kissing his cheek. "I do too. I just hate that it always ends so quickly," you said, thinking about the work nights where you had to head home early, not quite ready for the night to end but knowing that you needed to go home for a change of clothes.

"You know," he said, pausing to flip the two of you over, his body hovering over you, "I could always clear a couple drawers out for you."

Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. You'd been hinting at the idea for a while, lamenting about needing fresh panties or complaining about missing your skincare regimen. But Spencer hadn't seemed quite ready to take that step yet, so you didn't pressure him.

"Wait, are you serious?"

He nodded, bending down to kiss you on the lips this time. "I'll even let you pick out which one you want."

You practically pushed him into the floor as you jumped up. Spencer chuckled as you ran over to the dresser, pulling his boxers back on.

You pulled out the second drawer, where you knew his tee shirts were, grabbed one of his giant ones and tossed it on. "Any of them?"

"Mhm," he hummed, walking over and settling his hands on your waist. "Whichever one you want."

You considered it, eventually deciding on the bottom drawer. "What about-"

"Wait, Y/N, don't-" he shouted, reaching out to stop your hand.

He was too late, though. You pulled open the drawer, revealing an entire drawer of nerdy memorabilia. The lightsaber was the first thing that caught your eye, followed by a sonic screwdriver, and a couple geeky Pop Figures, among other things.

"You have a lightsaber," you examined.

Spencer scratched awkwardly at his neck. "Yeah, I guess I do."

You grabbed the lightsaber from the drawer, your face lighting up as you turned it on. "You have a lightsaber!"

He chuckled as you poked him in the ribs with the lightsaber. "You're having too much fun with this."

You set the lightsaber down on top of the dresser, turning back to the drawer. Next, you pulled out the infamous Jason Voorhees mask, holding it in front of your face. "Please tell me you've scared your coworkers with this."

Spencer let out another chuckle, taking the mask from your hands. "I got Morgan with it one time. He nearly choked on his coffee."

You continued snooping through the drawers, sifting through Polaroids of Spencer and his friend Penelope at various conventions, some D.C. comics, and a couple signed posters. Your heart nearly flipped when you spotted a picture of him dressed as the Joker. "Who did your face paint?"

"You're loving this, aren't you?"

A squeal escaped your lips as you threw your arms over his shoulders. "Spence, this is adorable! Why would you hide this from me?"

He sighed, somewhere between relieved and exasperated. "I didn't want you to think I was weird. I mean, I'm a grown man and I have a collection of legos and Batman comics?"

"Spencer, I think it's cute that you have something you love so much. You don't have to be afraid to show how much you love and support it."

He bent forward to kiss you again, pulling your body flush against his. "You really mean that?"

"I mean, any man that has the balls to wear makeup like that in public is sexy in my book," you kidded.

Spencer diverted your attention back to the drawer, pointing his chin toward the dresser. "Is that really the drawer you want?"

"Does it come with all the nerdy memorabilia?" you teased, poking his chest.

"In your dreams. I spent good money on those things." He rolled his eyes, leading you to the bathroom. His hands were warm and big on your bare skin, the feeling absolutely heavenly. He placed a trail of kisses along your shoulder up to your head before hooking his chin over your shoulder.

You lifted your head to face him, kissing his jaw. "Hey, does this mean we can go as the Joker and Harley Quinn for Halloween?"

"You know what? I think that might just be something out of my dreams."

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @wwwonzeee @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose

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mydearlybeloathed · 1 year ago

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𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: following their fellow hero’s death, the remaining seven have to face their decade long feud at the grave.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: heroes of olympus x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

The last thing any of them wanted was to go to the funeral. It wasn’t that they didn’t care; to say that would be the biggest lie any of them would say. No, they didn’t want to show up because the grief they felt was too great. Y/N shouldn’t have died, not when each of them had unsaid words to say to her.

Yet each demigod sucked up their sadness, dressed as nice as they could, and made their way back to Camp Halfblood, where Y/N was to be honored that evening.

It’d been seven years since the Second Giant War, and five years since any of them had met face to face (the exception was Percy and Annabeth, who'd gotten married just before the seven’s falling out). The great heroes of Olympus were nothing but a campfire tale at this point.

Jason was the first to arrive. Silently he stood at her grave, his throat burning with the floodgate of tears he held back. Years ago, when he’d first arrived at Camp Halfblood with no memory of his old life, he found Y/N sitting here with a book.

He’d learned very quickly that it wasn’t smart to disturb her when she was reading…

Under the shade of the big oak tree sat a girl, all alone save for an open book. While the other campers hung out with their siblings and friends, playing varying games and sports, she seemed perfectly content under her tree.

He wasn’t trying to be a creep, but Jason couldn’t help but watch her from afar. He’d seen her in action during last week's capture the flag game. Y/N had scared the shit out of him when she’d come running at him with a sword; Looking back on it, Jason swore he saw death in her eyes.

So when Jason found the angry warrior girl who’d almost skinned him alive trying to get his team's flag looking so peaceful with her nose in a book, he became curious of her.

Annabeth was quick to warn him against going up to her. After he insisted on getting to know her, she grinned and said, “Fine, it’s your death wish.”

It turned out that she was right.

“Umm, hi. You’re Y/N, right?” Jason asked when he was standing in front of her. She wasn’t quick to look up from her book, an eyebrow raised as she sized him up.

“Yeah,” she said, unenthused. “And you are?”

“Jason Grace.”

“Ah. Son of Zeus. I’ve heard about you,” she said, her eyes drifting back to her book for a moment. “Is there something you need?”

The boy scratched at his neck, trying to look casual and not terribly awkward. “Not really. I just remembered you from the game last Friday. You almost maimed me.”

A small grin pulled at the girl’s face, but still, she seemed eager for him to leave her alone. “That was you? Heh, sorry. I’m a tad bit competitive.”

He was about to compliment her sword skills when the grin fell from her face and she looked back to her book. “Listen, you seem nice, but I’m kinda busy in case you can’t tell. Please leave me alone. Thanks.”

And that was the end of that conversation. The next time he held a conversation with her was after his quest to free Juno. She was certainly more kind when she wasn’t in the middle of reading, that was for sure.

The more he got to know her, the more he appreciated her love of books. On more than one occasion some random fact from a seemingly irrelevant fantasy novel saved their asses.

Sighing deeply, Jason rested a blue flower that he’d picked earlier on top of her headstone. He sat down in front of it, finally allowing himself to cry over the loss of his dear friend.

Next was Percy and Annabeth.

Hand in hand, they approached the site. It was on the edge of camp, on a hillside that looked over the cabins. It was surrounded by trees, and Y/N’s favorite flowers were planted all around.

Annabeth stopped at the treeline, her eyes landing on the headstone, and the blond boy kneeling next to it with his head in his hands. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to cry, that she’d cried enough, that crying wouldn’t change the fact that she was gone.

But then, the burning in her throat grew all so worse. Her Hand flew to her mouth, and she choked on a sob. Percy turned, her stationary figure tugging him back. Jason’s head snapped up, his eyes widening upon seeing the two standing there.

He wiped at his face, but his bloodshot eyes gave away that he’d been crying too. The silence was thick, mixing with the surrounding humidity, making the air difficult to breathe.

It’d been some time since they’d crossed paths. “Hey.”

Percy nodded. “Hey.”

Another sob choked Annabeth as she ducked her chin. “Oh, shut up! We’re awful people.”

Jason and Percy turned to her, shocked by her outburst as tears trailed down her cheeks. “What?”

“Every last one of us,” she cried. “She was the only one who tried to keep everyone friends, who could stand to be the voice of reason! And we all... we all abandoned her just because of a stupid argument!”

Before anyone could respond, the wind picked up, blowing their hair all around. Jason looked up, and his throat went dry at the sight of a giant bronze dragon lowering form the sky.

Leo and Piper appeared on its back, both solemn and silent as the dragon landed and they slid to the ground. Piper locked eyes with him, and she nodded without a word.

Annabeth just turned around, wiping furiously at her face. Meanwhile, Leo stared gaping at the grave, as though he hadn’t really expected it to be there. “She’s...”

“Yeah,” Jason snapped. “Yeah. She’s gone.”

Piper shot him a nasty glare as Leo recoiled into himself. “Back off.”

“Listen, I’m just--”

“You’re just not. Okay? Shut the hell up.”

The daughter of Athena whirled around and pointed form Piper to Jason, silencing them in an instant. “We are not bringing this here, to her grave.”

No one dared to bite back. Percy rubbed circles into her shoulders, hoping it helped.

Next thing any of them knew, another figure appeared, closely followed by another. Frank and Hazel, walking at least seven feet apart from each other in awkward silence.

Hazel’s eyes made it to the headstone, and she lost all her breath. Her knees started to give out, and Leo was the only one who thought to run to steady her against him. She buried her head in his shoulder, though not a tear fell. Something about the redness in her eyes said she’d run out of tears.

Annabeth felt a burn of anger rise up wihtin her, and with her hands fisted at her sides, she began again in a broken voice, “We can barely look at each other! We... We left her alone, after all she did for us. She died alone.”

Frank let out a shaky breath, his eyes on the ground. “Annabeth... what were we--”

“What were we supposed to do?” she spat back. Her hands were shaking. “Anything. She was a fucking daughter of Eris. The goddess of strife. She was the only one who tried to get everyone to fucking get along!”

Ten years ago, the eight Heroes of Olympus had gathered at Percy and Annabeth’s wedding. Frank and Hazel were newly separated, Piper and Jason too, and no one was really over how Leo didn’t hurry to come back after Calypso revived him.

It was,

“I bet you loved her attention! Was her head enough to make you forget us?”

“I had died!”

And,

“We were tricked into liking each other by Hera!”

“I loved you, Piper!”

Then,

“Why couldn’t we make it work? Why?”

“You know why!”

And finally,

“Stop fighting at our damn wedding!”

And in the middle of it all, there was Y/N. She stood between everyone, hands raised warily, as she tried to make everyone apologize. It didn’t work. She always blamed herself too; Eris kids only ever make things worse.

Nobody had had a kind word for another of the eight since then. After a while, Y/N stopped reaching out. She stopped trying to get everyone to meet up. She stopped attempting an intervention. She gave up.

And now she’s dead. Killed by a minotaur.

Percy felt it was payback.

In the thick silence, only broken by Annabeth’s heavy breathing and the occasional sniffle, nobody dared to say a word.

Until... “I...” Piper sighed. “I spoke to her. A week ago. She... she tried to get me to call Jason. I refused.”

She closed her eyes, embarassed and ashamed, but then Jason looked up, eyes wide. “She called me too. Asked me to talk to you.”

Leo began to tap his chest with one hand and wipe his face with the other. “Me too. She called me to call Jason and Frank.”

“She wanted me to call Hazel.”

“And me to call Frank.”

Every one of them had refused.

Annabeth just stared at Y/N’s grave, Percy mirroring her, their hands finding each others. “She wanted us to get everyone together, at camp... today. Oh, gods.”

Piper’s eyes widened like saucers. “You don’t think she...” She couldn’t finish.

“I don’t know,” said Percy, eyes unfocused. “I don’t know.”

Hazel shook her head frantically. “She wouldn’t. She was killed by a minotaur!”

Another silence took a hold of them and wouldn’t let go. One by one, each of them haunted by what ifs and worries, one by one they came to sit around the headstone.

Not another tear was shed. Hazel took the blue flowers all around and made anxious little flower crowns, passing them around the circle like some sort of machine, until Leo grabbed her hands and made her stop when everyone had a flower crown, a necklace, and a bracelet to don.

From across their little circle, Jason looked at Piper, finding her eyes already on him. He shivered, and she pursed her lips. He broke the silence first. “It was Hera... I shouldn’t have felt I had a right to tell you how to feel.”

Piper shook her head. “I shouldn’t have assumed we meant nothing to you.”

“Guys,” Leo blurted, plucking petals off his crown. “I... I should have rushed back to ya’ll the moment I could... but I was scared. I didn’t know if ya’ll would want me back.”

Hazel gaped at him. “Why wouldn’t we want you back, Leo?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I was the eighth wheel, you know? I didn’t think I mattered to anyone.”

Percy cracked the stick in his hand. “You mattered the world to us... to Y/N.”

Frank nodded. “She was beside herself when you died. I’d never seen anyone so... so...”

“Hopeless,” Hazel finished, locking eyes with him before she quickly looked away. Something in Frank’s chest squeezed.

Leo’s eyes went somewhere behind them all, as if he’d never even played with the idea that he could mean so much to someone. None of them doubted, in that instant, that that was true, and suddenly they wondered for the first time if Leo was as all right as he appeared.

The sun continued its journey across the sky, now hiding behind the trees to offer the group some shade.

Out of the shadows, literally, came Nico and consequently, Will. Annabeth was the first to notice their new matching wedding bands, putting a light smile on her face.

For a moment, all the pair did was stand there, staring at the grave, not saying a word, before Nico tugged on Will’s hand and they were gone nearly as soon as they’d appeared. Everyone pretended not to hear how Nico broke the moment he turned his back.

Some time later, Chiron trotted up the hill, greeted each of them, and lade a laurel wreath on Y/N’s headstone.

Grover and Juniper came up soon after, but they too could only stand to look at the grave for so long before they turned back.

The seven remained, as though intending upon a vigil, in silence. Perhaps to honor her. Perhaps because no one knew what to say. One thing was clear, though, if nothing else: they were done fighting.

“I...” Percy spoke up, sniffling. “We...”

Annabeth took his hand. “Do you guys wanna come for dinner one day?”

She was afraid no one would answer, but almost immediatley Piper leaped at a reply. “Where’s your place?”

“Not far,” said Percy. “Still in Long Island.”

he squeezed Annabeth’s hand, shooting her a teasing look. She only grinned back. “And... well, uhm. We never got to tell any of you... thought it was always too soon--”

“What? What is it?” Leo demanded, on the edge of his grassy seat.

Annabeth and Percy locked eyes in a silent gleeful exchange, before Percy said, “We’re parents.”

Not a jaw was still shut.

“Dude,” Piper gasped. “What--Oh my gods.”

Hazel clapped her hands, a smile to bright that Frank buffered a moment. Leo pointed a thumb at the married couple and said, “Oh, you better bet we’re coming for dinner. Gotta meet tiny Jackson-Chase.”

Laughter bubbled up from the circle, and suddenly, the conversation wasn’t so muddled with bitter memories. Plans were made, silent apologizes given, and hope spread around.

It’d been just five hours since they’d first arrived, yet it felt as if a whole decade was occured. The decade they wasted.

So as each of them stood (Hazel offered Frank her hand, and he gladly took it, towering over her like he always had. Leo and Jason shook hands, before the latter pulled the former into a rib cracking hug. Annabeth wiped at her face, locking eyes with Piper, and threw herself into her arms.) they tried not to dwell in the simmering past.

It was the least they could do for Y/N, who believed they could forgive, even in her last days.

Which is why, hidden in the trees, shrouded by a cloud of mist, tears streaked down a young woman’s cheeks. Her lip trembling and her heart sang at the sight. Perhaps a child fo Eris didn’t have to ruin everything.

She wanted to run, to jump out of the trees before it was too late, to hug them at long last, but the grip on her shoulder made every attempt send shooting pains up her spine.

“It seems,” said Y/N’s mother. “You were right about them, my sweet.”

Y/N glared up at Eris, taking in a deep breath to calm herself. “Please. You’ve had your fun. Your hypothesis was wrong.”

The disapointment all over Eris’ face only made Y/N’s impatience grow. “I’m... surprised. I thought nothing could bring them together again.”

“You don’t give them enough credit,” said Y/N, a small smile gracing her face as she turned back to the seven.

“Or,” said Eris, brows raised. “I didn’t give you enough credit. Certainly, as my favorite daughter I thought for sure your death would only drive them further apart...”

Y/N didn’t like the calculated look on her mother’s face, like Eris was wondering what had gone wrong, and she tugged at her hold on her shoulder despite the pain it brought. “Let me go?

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll be hostile when they see you deceived them?”

The daughter shrugged. “A little bit. But after I explain that you forced me into faking my death for the sake of testing them, I’m sure all their anger will find a much better outlet.”

With a scant smile, Eris ruffled her daughter’s hair. “Good. Now run along. They shouldn't grieve any longer than they have to.”

So she did, sprinting into the clearing without much thinking, not even blinking at the unsheathed weapons that followed her swift appearance.

Breathing heavily, Y/N’s eyes scanned over her friends, still blinking away tears, as one by one their guards fell crashing down. She waved a little. “Hi.”

Hazel broke first, her weapon falling to the grass as she bolted at Y/N, nearly taking them both down with the power behind her hug. The rest didn’t take long to follow, wrapping their arms around you in a stuffy yet welcome group embrace.

“But... how?”

She could only look toward the forest, glaringly so. “Turns out I’m my mother’s disappointment.”

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dairy-farmer · 4 months ago

Note

imagine this, right? i js got the idea. might not be the best one in the world, but here.

dick and tim have been married for anywhere around three years. tim’s twenty four at this time, dick’s thirty-one. their love life is incredible, sex life just as good. tim kisses him in the mornings. they go out every sunday. the batfamily’s come to accept it because they’re so in love. their honeymoon phase is literally their whole marriage.

‘disgustingly in love,’ — jason.

‘dick has stooped so low,’ — damian.

‘please don’t make out on the couch,’ — duke.

they’re the kind of couple people hate, the bond that people want to have, and—

then dick cheats.

it wasn’t a good decision, but happened with this villain—‘and you know how the men in this family are with villains, tim, how the villains are with us. she was hot. and it had been going on for weeks. i refused until he didn’t. i tried, tim.’ dick doesn’t have a good excuse. tim’s out of his life within a week, divorce proceedings already starting.

it’s dick’s all time low. tim doesn’t even look at him. dick begs him to stay as he packs his bags. he says he’ll never do it again, it was a one-off occasion, but tim’s trust is like stained glass, so pretty when he has it, so devastating when it shatters.

tim’s friends despise dick. kon-el always challenges his authority on joint missions now. steph outright says the divorce was his fault and disinvited him from outings because it was still so fresh and tim would be there. wally and cassie give him looks and fall into whispers whenever he passes. jason jokes about it and has it in every low blow he can muster.

he still sees tim every other day, because of their careers, but tim avoids his patrol areas and bruce purposely sets them apart.

once or twice, bruce mentions how they should forget grudges on the job, but he can’t help it.

almost a year passes, and tim’s birthday happens. dick watches it happen from his phone, scrolling his socials, and breaks down. it’s a cycle of him wanting tim to feel as useless as dick without him, to him wishing the best, until he admits he wants nothing more than tim again and hates himself for losing that.

he buys him a gift that night. leaves it on tim’s usual work space in the batcave. that evening, he finds a sticky note on his door with the word “thanks.”

he places one on tim’s desk, so sure it’s him, giddy with the idea of them talking again, he writes back, “ur welcome.”

it should be the end. instead, dick finds a “how did u know i’d want this?” on his nightwing suit. he replies with, “because ur tim” and places it on the zesti can in the bundle, because tim takes one around this time, and always follows their placement.

“what does that mean” on dick’s shoes in the morning.

“u like collections” on a figurine tim left in the parlour.

“i know and i couldn’t even get my hands on this one” the inside of dick’s smoothie mix bottle.

“what? u can’t get ur hands on a simple superman figurine?” the side of the leg extension/curl machine in the home gym, timed before tim’s work out.

“there was only five of this one ever made.” the mirror in dick’s en-suite.

“and now u have one of them :)” tim’s degenerate energy dark chocolate bar container.

they go on like this for a couple weeks. start hanging around the manor that much more often to encounter their next note.

“did u see what she wore to the gala? (he forgot her name, so there’s a doodle of a woman with pronounced ears and a bad tiger print scarf crammed on the note)” “didn’t you wear five toed shoes to a gala?” “it wasn’t tiger print.”

“i love alfred’s cookies.” “ur sticky note has crumbs.” “don’t talk to me about sanitary stick notes, piss stain” “u could smell the apple juice stop with the piss allegations :(”

and so forth. eventually, dick musters the courage to talk to tim again. he says hi one night they cross paths on patrol. it’s the most awkward reaction he gets, silence, then a returned, ‘hi.’

the sticky notes stop.

dick hates himself for a total of three days before tim asks if he wants to work a case together. he hops on it fast.

they spend all night looking through it, figuring it out. it’s difficult. they spend the night after that to finish it. tim’s speaking to him again, a bit more like a friend, more sarcastically, and dick knew he couldn’t stay away forever.

a month later, and he might mention something of their past, hinting on it. dick hasn’t gotten over tim. ever. tim replies, in the kindest way possible something that translates to ‘we’re never getting back together.’

dick is heartbroken.

their interactions change as soon as tim is aware dick’s still into him. not in the way he distances, but in the way he talks to dick, leaning over his shoulders to show him new installations and software, holding his forearm time to time, casually, like his hand just slid there without thinking, and hanging an arm over his shoulder enough for dick to ask himself why.

dick once asks, while tim is dealing with a bad gash and he’s in daring spirits, ‘do you ever miss us?’

‘maybe,’ tim says, ‘i miss the other stuff.’

‘the other stuff?’

‘like, the sex.’

he realizes quite soon that tim’s ‘we’re never getting back together’ euphemism wasn’t a full sentence, or concept. he did say something else after, to further soften it, but dick stopped listening then. he mentioned he didn’t mind them being friends, something other with benefits, and it clicks then.

we’re never getting back together, but we can hook up if you want.

tim didn’t say that word for word, but it’s clear he meant that now.

dick wants the same relationship with tim he had then, beyond sex. they were better than sex. sure, the sex was incredible, tim felt so good for him, and remembering it now starts a craving in him that furthers when tim’s fingers brush along his skin.

‘i meant more than that.’

tim shrugs. dick should probe, keep trying to pry something out of him. but dick is a weak man when tim offers him something.

‘but that’s fine. i miss it, too.’

dick wishes he could take the betrayal back. he hasn’t touched anyone else since the divorce. it felt like cheating, seeing someone else, made him sick and he wasn’t in the hottest mood without tim around. but now tim is, for him, and he’ll take whatever he can get.

that’s how dick ends up with his ex-husband on top, insisting he does all the work because he just sterilized and bandaged his side, and it’s best he stays down. tim slips down him, and it’s been a while, such a long time dick is throbbing before tim even starts. he grabs his hips so hard, and can’t even thrust up before tim scolds him and breathily threatens to stop if he keeps writhing so much, that he needs to keep still if he wants this.

dick strains not to lift into tim, trembling beneath him, running hands along his smooth torso. so, so pretty.

tim’s thighs work, slapping onto his flesh, his cock dripping on dick’s abs. dick wants to sear his finger prints into his hips. to account for how he can’t thrust his hips without tim aggressively palming at his stomach, shoving him down or making him jerk down with pain, he manhandles tim by his hips, plunging him down on his cock. tim sings so lovely, hunching over. he tries to kiss tim when he hovers close enough for it to work, but tim rights his posture the last second, bouncing on dick’s cock and he loses his mind. he squeezes his hips one handedly, the one thing anchoring him, focusing his other on rounding tim’s cock and rubbing.

hair haloes his bowed head, his blue eyes dazed then shutting tight, pretty lips falling ajar in a gasp. dick swallows down the i love you clawing in the back of his throat, and comes after tim, spurred on by how he tightens, his trembling, and that look on his face. tim slips off of him, first checking the bandages for any bleeding, and relaxing when there’s none.

finally, they clean up, but it happens again. and again.

it’s good for the reason hook ups often are. better because tim knows him, knows what turns dick on, and where on his body causes tremors to race about his nerves. it hurts for the reason that’s all it is. hook ups. tim never kisses him during them or stays too long for after care before he finds something to do.

dick is still so in love. he can’t complain. but he wants something more. he can be casual with anyone else, but not his timmy.

however this ends im not sure but it was an idea i had ig.

!!!!!! dick being so desperate to take back what he did and to be able to have tim again but not being able to. the most he can get is the occasional hookup but even then tim still keeps his distance and does not treat dick affectionatly and doesn't act like them meeting is anything other than a hookup. i love the idea that when tim starts treating dick more civilly, maybe even nicely he gets so happy and exxcited that it might mean more only to deflate when tim tells him no again.

dick starts getting affectionate, starts reaching for tim because he thinks maybe because tim is nice to him now, that because tim talks to him, doesn't look at him with dead fish eyes that it means...more.

and then any hope dick feels collapses when tim holds his hands and starts softly talking like dick is a child. "just because i can work with you and just because i laugh with you and am nice to you, it doesn't mean i forgive you dick. it doesn't even mean i miss you,"

just dick always getting his hopes high and then having them knocked out from under him.

dick was always stuck in this cycle of relationships. cycling through the same partners again and again and after cheating on tim it ends. he never enters that cycle again. instead he enters a new one. one where he reads into tim's behavior and words thinking he has a chance again, building his hope up again. only for it to be dashed.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #dicktim

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goldenraeofsun · 1 month ago

Text

Baskerville

Dick vaults the last flight of stairs to the Batcave and sprints down the platform to the infirmary area. “Damian!”

“Master Dick,” Alfred tsks as Dick skids to a halt outside the curtained area. “Please keep your voice down. Master Damian is resting.”

“I just heard,” Dick pants as he peers around Alfred to see through a gap in the curtains. “Did he say who did it?”

“Not exactly –” Alfred starts before Steph’s voice interrupts, her voice curt, “Jason.”

Dick steps around Alfred, ignoring his put-upon sigh, and slips by Damian’s bedside to stand next to Steph, barefaced, her eyes cold, as she stands next to the small figure hooked up to far too many tubes and covered in far too many bandages.

“Oh, Dames,” Dick murmurs as he reaches over to hold two of Damian’s fingers, the only visible part of him not covered in gauze. He bites his lip as he catalogs the TBI, broken left ulna, five bullet wounds his other limbs, probably fractured if not broken ribs, and split lip.

He turns to Steph. “You were patrolling together?”

Steph nods once, the movement too sharp. Her flinty gaze doesn’t waver from Damian’s face. “The Narrows. Apparently we got too close to Jason’s turf for his liking.”

Dick frowns. The edge of the gauze covering Damain’s hand chafes against his thumb, and he has to consciously stop himself from worrying it. “That doesn’t sound like him.��

“This is exactly like him,” Steph snarls under her breath. “Tim told me about Jason’s attack at the Tower after he came back. A concussion, fractured jaw, broken clavicle, a fucking bootprint of a bruise on his back from where Jason kicked him into a stone statue. Lacerations all over from being thrown around like a ragdoll by a guy with half a foot and eighty pounds on him.”

Dick’s shoulders tense, involuntarily bristling at Steph’s actuation. “He has changed.”

“Clearly, he hasn’t.”

Dick shakes his head. “That was years ago. Talia messed with his head, convinced him that Tim took his place.”

“So Tim got that epic beatdown because Jason didn’t check his sources?” Steph hisses, incensed. Her eyes burn with a rage Dick hasn’t seen in a while - he has to stop himself from taking a step back. “And what could possibly be his reason to mess with Robin this time around? The kid would rather stab himself with his katana than pick up a gun and patrol Crime Alley.”

“I have no idea,” Dick says honestly. “And you’re sure it was Jason? It wasn’t… a copycat? A frame job?”

Steph’s mouth twists. “A copycat wearing Jason’s helmet, in Jason’s territory, that moved exactly like Jason?” She looks up at Dick for the first time since he arrived. “I may be blonde, but I’m not that blonde, Dick.” Jaw clenched, she averts her gaze again and starts to pace.

Dick sighs. Too many conflicting emotions are bombarding beneath his ribcage, too many questions left unanswered.

“If he walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, shoots armor piercing rounds like a duck…” Steph continues as she pivots back towards Dick and Damian, her footsteps unnaturally loud in the Cave.

“But, he’s been good,” Dick says quietly, half to himself, half to Steph. “Sure, Jason has his issues with us, but he covered for me when I had to deal with the demon cult in San Francisco last week.”

“Because covering for you meant taking down the Yakuza’s growing foothold in Bludhaven,” Steph says impatiently before she takes off again. “He wiped them out in two nights and spent the rest of the time signing you up for every porn magazine still in circulation and stealing your wingdings to melt into bullets.”

Dick’s eyes widen. “How did you know that?”

She stops dead, scoffing, “Please, like Bruce is the only person who has your place bugged.”

“You bugged my –”

“Not me,” Steph cuts him off, making a face like Dick is an idiot. “Tim.”

Dick just sighs. He’ll have to do another sweep of his apartment soon if he has to start looking for Tim’s tech in addition to Bruce’s.

“It was Jason,” Steph mutters as she turns back to Damian, lying so still. “I have no idea why, but he did this. He did this to Robin.”

Dick turns back to Damian’s still form and gives his fingers a light squeeze, his heart impossibly heavy. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Steph.”

“If you need an extra pair of hands to take him down,” she says as she unclasps her cape and pulls aside the curtain separating them from the rest of the Cave, “you know who to call. I’m going to go hit stuff for a while.”

* * *

Nightwing is talking with Arkham’s chief of security when his com bursts to life. Spoiler’s voice screeches, “Back up, I need back up! Anyone there? Hello?”

Nightwing blinks, all attention focused on Spoiler. He holds up a finger to Ms. Yenn and taps his com. “Where are you?”

“The Bowery!”

Nightwing’s blood goes cold. With Arkham security measures and the destruction of the bridge during the breakout last night, it’ll take him at least fifteen minutes to get back to Gotham’s mainland and yet another twenty to get all the way to the east side. Red Robin might actually get to her faster; but he’s lurking somewhere in the Diamond District at this time of night, twenty minutes to the south of the Bowery.

“What’s the threat?”

A click of another line joining the frequency.

Spoiler pants, “Jason!”

“Jason?” Red Robin repeats, the faintest whistle of air in the background.

Nightwing would bet the last of his wingding stash that Red Robin’s already on his way to Spoiler’s location. “Hang on, Spoiler, we’re heading to you.”

He turns back to Yenn, “I’m sorry, ma’am, I have to cut this short –”

“I can’t outrun him, guys,” Spoiler pants. She yelps, and dread pools in Nightwing’s stomach. "He's too fast. Like, really fast."

In a rush, Nightwing says, “Here are our recommendations for repairs.” He all but throws the drive at Yenn. “I’ll check back in next week if you need anything from us –”

“Fuck!”

“Have a good night now!” He barrels through the doors of Arkham and sprints for the docks where he moored his boat.

“Why the hell are you doing this?” Spoiler demands, breathless but determined.

Red Robin’s voice comes in, “Hold on, I’m ten minutes out.”

But in bat-time, ten minutes might as well be an hour, and by the way Spoiler doesn’t respond, she knows it too.

Nightwing asks, “And you’re sure it’s Jason?”

“She’s not stupid,” Red Robin responds instead, his voice tense. “If she says it’s Jason, it’s Jason.”

“Right, right,” Nightwing says over the slap of Gotham Bay’s choppy waters against the side of his boat. “I –”

“Has Robin woken up yet?” Red Robin asks. “To get his story?”

Nightwing's fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “He woke up, but he wasn’t lucid.”

The sounds of three impacts in rapid succession travel down the line. Spoiler grunts in pain, and Nightwing guns the engine.

“ETA, Red Robin?” Nightwing asks.

“Eight minutes,” Red Robin reports, his voice strained. “I ran like five red lights already and nearly killed a guy on a segway, but that’s his fault for driving a goddamn segway.”

Nightwing kills the engine as he approaches the marina. With his pulse thundering in his ears, he rides the tragically slow current to the edge of the dock. He throws out the bow and stern lines and ties them up in knots that would make Bruce ground him for a week for sloppiness, back in his Robin days.

As he’s racing to his parked bike, Spoiler screams.

An ominous series of thumps come through over the comms.

“Steph, hold on!” Red Robin shouts.

Nightwing flies down the street, heading eastward.

Spoiler moans. “What the fucking hell is wrong with you?” she gasps, coughing wetly.

This whole time, Spoiler’s opponent hasn’t said a word, which raises every single one of Dick’s red flags. If Jason had one kryptonite, it was his big, fat mouth. Like all former Robins, quips and kicks came to him naturally. And Jason might’ve ditched the roundhouses for Sig Sauers, but he can never shut his trap when the opportunity presents itself.

“Five minutes!” Red Robin calls over a flurry of honks and yells from roaring through another red light.

Spoiler doesn’t respond, but the gunshot comes in loud and clear, followed by the heart-stoppingly familiar burst of static. Her comm has been crushed.

“Tell me what’s happening, Red Robin,” Nightwing demands.

“Four minutes,” Tim says breathlessly.

The next four minutes pass in a blur of lights and pedestrians. The static rings in Nightwing’s ears, deafening in the silence over the comm line. He weaves in between the cars, through the smallest of gaps to shave off fractions of seconds.

Red Robin next checks in, and Nightwing almost misses the next turn, shifting his weight just in time, making it just in time.

“She’s here. She’s alive,” Red Robin pants, his relief palpable. “Just barely. Pulse thready. I’m getting her out of here.”

Nightwing exhales a slow breath, trying to calm himself. Disaster mostly averted, but a disaster that should have never happened in the first place.

He needs to get a handle on this, before anyone else gets hurt.

“Any visual on her attacker?”

Red Robin doesn’t answer immediately. Eventually, he says, after an extremely judgemental silence, “No sign of Jason.”

Two minutes after Red Robin whisked Spoiler away, Nightwing pulls up to her last location at the edge of the Bowery, a wide open space of concrete and weeds underneath the overpass. Scuff marks, drops of blood leading to a larger pool, hallmarks of a fight decorate the eastern edge of the lot. The scene makes his stomach churn, but he finds no evidence left by her attacker. After a fruitless search, he heads back to the Cave.

He stays beside Damian for hours, trying his best to calm him down when he opens his eyes to see Steph on the bed next to him, unconscious and hooked up to all their backup monitors.

They have to sedate him again.

Once both are stable and resting under Alfred’s careful eye, Dick sneaks out. If Tim caught wind of Dick’s plan, he’d never let him go through with it. But Dick couldn’t take the chance that Tim would spook Jason and Dick would be back at square one. Jason and Tim got along like two feral cats with distinct territories – fine at a distance, but chaos in close quarters.

No, he can’t afford to have Tim as backup. He’ll handle Jason on his own.

* * *

Jason watches himself wash his hands in his cramped safehouse bathroom. Silently, he seethes. Stephanie Brown’s crimson red blood turns the water pink and swirls down the drain. His head raises to the stained mirror above the sink.

“Don’t be so glum,” comes out of his mouth. His eyes stare back at him, dark and fathomless. His face smiles, too wide, baring too many teeth.

A broad, gleeful smile.

“A little louder, lambchop. I think you may have a collapsed lung.”

The crowbar swings again.

He struggles. The ropes dig into his wrists and ankles. No give at all. He’s completely helpless.

“I left her alive, didn’t I?” comes out of his mouth next, and Jason throws himself against the invisible confines of his own head, trying to wrest back control of his body, swearing a blue streak that would make Alfred wash his mouth out with soap.

His reflection does not move an inch. “Now,” it tuts, “that’s not a very nice thing to say about my mother. Yours was hardly a saint.” It turns to dry Jason’s hands on the threadbare maroon towel hanging opposite the toilet. “Child neglect, drug abuse, not to mention her weak constitution. Is that something people say anymore? ‘Weak constitution’? I can never keep up with the lingo. But your head is filled with such fascinating vocabulary.”

It leaves the bathroom, and Jason loses sight of his reflection. He’s just a pair of eyes, unable to so much as twitch his pinky finger.

“Boring,” it declares as it picks up a first edition of The Hound of the Baskervilles on the end table by Jason’s couch. It lets the book fall to the floor, ignoring Jason’s wordless scream of rage. Left there, it will crack the fucking spine and, well, it was a gift from Bruce.

Jason fucks with everything else in Bruce’s life, but not their first editions. Some things are sacred, even from beyond the grave.

The first year he and Bruce were on semi-decent terms, Jason came back to his safehouse after a quiet patrol on his birthday – and Jason has thoughts about Bruce’s interference with his patrol too – to find a new book nestled among the other beaten up Penguin Classics and shitty sci fi novels he takes on boring stakeouts. There was no slip of paper with a happy birthday note on the inside, but words have never been Bruce’s forte.

But it was their thing, so it had to be Bruce.

No movie was too campy to watch with Dick. No cold case was too cold to tackle with Tim. And no martial arts technique was too obscure to teach Damian.

But with Jason, no first edition was ever too rare to track down and give to his second Robin.

Jason howls as he watches his steel-toed boot kick The Hound of the Baskervilles under the coffee table. A few pages come loose and flutter back to the ground. Not a sound escapes his mouth.

“My bad,” it says in a sing-song voice that makes Jason’s blood boil. “No matter. Conan was a real fraud, let me tell you –”

It pauses at the sound of a tap-tap-tap on the window.

At the sight of the blue finger stripes, Jason’s stomach sinks. Fuck no, Dick can’t be here. He is playing right into its hands –

But Jason just beats at the invisible bars of his cage as his body marches to stand in front of the window. His face morphs into a feigned expression of confusion as Dick meets his gaze through the glass. Get away, he screams, but, what comes out is, “Dickface, you got a problem using my front door like everyone else?”

“This is faster,” Dick grunts as he neatly disables Jason’s security measures and slides inside, graceful as one of Damian’s cats. “Plus, I’m not here for a social call.”

“So what do I owe the visit, then?” it asks, crossing its arms over its chest and raising an eyebrow.

Dick sighs. “Someone has been attacking… us,” he says slowly, studying Jason’s face carefully for his reaction.

It drops the defensive stance. “Who? Are the kids okay?” it asks.

Jason fumes. It’s not me! he shouts, but the demon gives nothing away.

“Damian and Stephanie, so far,” Dick says, his lips pursing. “Someone got the drop on them. They who knew what he was doing. They evaded all cameras and left no evidence.”

The guilt, always lurking in the back of Jason’s mind, rolls over him like a freight train. He did that. Those attacks were his fault.

The gremlin, flat on the ground, his hand twisted the wrong way from his broken arm, three bullet grazes leaking blood, and two bullet holes gushing with it. Five in total.

Blondie, slumped over, a halo of red surrounding her bright hair. Cracked ribs and a twisted ankle. A bullet in her thigh, left shoulder, calf, and, of course, that near miss at her temple. Head wounds always bled like a bitch. Four shots in total.

Clues for Dick to find.

Every time the demon would propose a plan of attack, alone in his apartment with just Jason for company, he would try to think of something else, anything else, but it was like asking someone not to think of a pink elephant. His mind would betray him, his real thoughts would drift to the surface, and the demon would gleefully snatch them from his consciousness and improve its plan with Jason's contribution.

Jason knew the kid, knew what they taught him in the League, and knew what Bruce was teaching him now.

He shudders, but of course none of this shows on his face.

Stephanie was harder, since Jason didn’t have as much of a history with her, and she started her vigilante career self-taught, outside of Bruce’s influence. But, Jason has several years of Bat training and League tutelage on her, not to mention a hundred pounds of muscle, so it got her in the end.

Tim – Jason dreads what the demon has in store for Tim Drake.

“Have the gremlin or blondie said who did it?” the demon asks, raking a hand through Jason’s hair as if lost in thought.

As Dick struggles to answer, Jason tries to wrest control of anything, his pinky finger, his right knee, his left eyebrow. He lashes out at his confines, silently howling his rage.

“They both say you did it,” Dick says quietly.

It actually reels back a step – You’re overselling it, you bastard – and puts on some stupid, wounded look on his face that Jason would slap off, if he could. But, judging by Dick’s hurt expression, he’s falling for the act, hook, line, and sinker.

Fuck you, Dick.

If Jason went around randomly attacking Bats, he’d own up to it like a man. He took on Batman himself when he was fresh out of the League, fueled by angst and spite. And when Bruce tracked him down, did Jason play coy and say, Oh, no Bruce you got the wrong dead kid you adopted and then kicked to the curb ? No, Jason did his big reveal, they had an epic fight, and he went on with his plans. Zero subterfuge, no underhanded manipulation – that was Bruce’s game, not Jason’s.

“It wasn’t me,” it answers Dick in a disturbingly convincing voice. No more than a whisper with a hint of warning.

Dick glances around, his gaze catching on one of the stray The Hound of the Baskervilles pages. “Sherlock Holmes?” he asks as he scans the text, his brow furrowing.

“What? I may not have graduated high school, but I know how to read,” it says, its tone pointed.

Dick holds up his page-free hand in a gesture of no-harm. “I didn’t think detective stories were your thing. But I should’ve known,” he says with a light chuckle that makes Jason want to throttle him because how can he be laughing now, at all times, “Brit Lit wins out over everything else, right?”

Jason feels his mouth stretch into an easy smile. “Right,” it says with his voice.

Fuck you twice over, Dick.

Jason loved detective stories as a kid; all Robins did. They were raised by the World’s Greatest Detective; Sherlock Holmes was practically required reading, and Conan Doyle was definitely more fun than the old GCPD case reports that Bruce set as weekly assignments. Jason could tell the difference between deductive and inductive reasoning before he put on the scaly panties.

“Do you have any tracking data that recorded your location earlier tonight and last Friday?” Dick asks.

If Jason had a jaw he could use, it would have dropped open in surprise. Dick didn’t swallow the demon’s story whole.

But as the demon does something with Jason’s face, Dick rushes to say, “Damian and Steph will want proof.”

Jason would swear at the top of his voice if he could. He should’ve known.

“They don’t know you like I do,” Dick says – pleads, really.

Christ, the guy’s pathetic.

“Well, you can’t have it,” the demon says, with a fair approximation of Jason’s quick temper. “I already have enough Bats up in my business. I don’t need little birdies on my tail when you play pin the tail on Jason because Robin took one too many blows to the head and started seeing things.”

“But–”

“Get out,” it says over Dick’s objections.

“Jay–” Something on the demon’s face makes Dick cut himself off. He carefully sets the page down on the coffee table. “Fine, I’m going. Just, look out for yourself, okay?” He meets Jason’s eyes. “I know you didn’t do this, Little Wing.”

I didn’t.

“Get out, before I make you,” the demon says before it all but shoves Dick back out the window and slams it down behind him.

As they both watch Dick swing away, it says, “Now, let the real fun begin.”

* * *

Tim is almost too easy to track down. Despite the clear and present danger, Timmy keeps the same patrol routes he always does, with the added bonus of Big Brother watching in the wings, no doubt trying to catch the real perpetrator in the act.

Obviously, the demon couldn’t have that, so it hires a few brainless goons to blow up a yacht party on Penguin’s second-biggest boat at the same time as it places a fake 911 call about a convenience store robbery. Even if Dick figures out it’s a ploy to separate them, he will still feel compelled to stay and help search and rescue in Gotham Bay.

Jason watches with a churning feeling as Nightwing heads south and Red Robin goes north. The demon actually rubs its hands together like a two-bit spaghetti western villain about to tie a damsel to a set of train tracks.

It hops over the rooftops, supernaturally fast and agile. It keeps Red Robin at a distance, careful not to set off his well-honed sixth sense of being watched. It wouldn’t do to have Tim calling in Dick too early and ruining the big surprise.

The demon catches up with him after fifteen minutes.

At his absolute fastest, it will take Nightwing half an hour to reach them, which is more than enough time.

“So I’m next on the list, huh?” Tim says, his voice dry as he turns around at the sound of Jason’s boots thumping down on the roof behind him. Quick as lightning, Tim snaps out his collapsible bo staff.

The demon, predictably, doesn’t say a word. It does, however, set off a miniature EMP to fry all of Tim’s fancy gadgets.

Tim raises a hand to his comm. “I want you to know, I was right,” he says. “It is Jason.”

It watches with sick satisfaction as Tim realizes his comm is dead. No help is coming.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Tim asks as he nonchalantly twirls his staff, but Jason can read his nerves in the tense set of his shoulders – loose, Bruce always told them to stay loose – and the way he keeps his focus on Jason, not once scanning his peripherals.

“You rely on your toys too much, Timmy,” it says, taking a step closer. “So I thought I’d teach you a lesson. You need it, from what I’ve seen. You have none of Nightwing’s fluidity. Half of my brawn. A quarter of the gremlin’s training.” It reaches up and takes off Jason’s helmet, so Tim can see his bare face. “If I had to find a comparison, I’d say you’re most on level with Blondie, and she was, what, Robin for 73 days?”

Internally, Jason winces. He’d never say all that to Tim.

He’d think it, sure.

Because, from his experience, Tim isn’t a fighter on the same caliber as him and Dick and probably Damian once the little hellion goes through puberty. Tim fights smarter, relies more on his gadgets and environment than they do. He’s a relatively easier Robin to beat in close quarters, but he’s almost impossible at a distance.

In the nonexistent-privacy of his own head, Jason’s admitted dozens of times over the past week that the kid is good and shouldn’t be underestimated.

Tim takes the criticism with a completely blank expression. “Are you going to babble at me all night or are you actually going to do something? Because I gotta say,” he twirls his staff, daring Jason to attack while his weapon is occupied, “I’m feeling a bit left out you’re not giving me the silent treatment like you did –”

The demon lunges.

Tim dances out of the way in a dodge he definitely learned from Dick, and the fight is on.

Like with Steph and Damian, Jason tries to shut it out, but he can’t close his eyes; he can’t look away. And the demon takes all of his split-second judgments and hurls them at Tim in a merciless barrage.

A vicious punch to his kidney. “C’mon, you’re dropping your elbow, Timbo.”

A high kick to his face. “Oh, you almost blocked that in time!”

A one-two combo that sends Tim staggering back, blood dripping from his split lip, one hand cradling his cracked ribs. “Is that all you got?”

Tim smiles, crimson lacing over his teeth. “I’m just getting started.” He shifts his weight to his back foot, preparing to strike.

The demon leans to the left for a feint –

Tim leaps backwards off the roof.

Shocked, the demon and Jason hear the poom of Tim’s grapple firing before the demon lets out a yell and follows.

Tim sprints across the increasingly decrepit Burnley townhouses, hurtling over planters full of dead bushes and overflowing piles of garbage. A stray beer bottle nearly trips him up, but he catches himself just in time. He leaps for the next building over and easily clears the ten feet of distance.

He glances behind him, the whites of his lenses reflecting the orange street lamps. With a low curse, he throws a birdarang over his shoulder and keeps running.

The demon ducks, a feral smile curling its lip.

Tim goes too short on his next jump. His midsection slams into the edge of the roof, and he audibly gasps in pain. His gloved fingers scrabble for purchase on the crumbling concrete, and he levers himself over just as the demon takes off from the next building over. Tim sucks in a deep breath as he takes off again, weaving between rusted lawn chairs and pots full of weeds and brown dirt.

Jason and the demon overtake Tim at the next building. With a snarl, the demon yanks on Tim’s cape, sending him crashing to the ground.

“Neat trick,” it says as it pulls out Jason’s gun from its holster. “But as fun as our little chase scene was, game’s over now, birdbrain.”

Flat on his back, Tim throws another birdarang, trying to knock the gun out of his hand. It lodges between his knuckles, and Jason internally winces at the sight, but the demon ignores it. Doesn’t even bother removing it before he fires two shots, one at each of Tim’s legs, aiming for the gaps in the armor. A third buries itself in Tim’s arm.

Tim screams as the bullets go in and through.

“Come on, I didn’t even hit any bones,” it says in an almost bored voice as it stands over Tim, one firm, steel-toed boot on his cape, keeping him pinned like a butterfly to a corkboard. “Walk it off.” It smirks down at Tim as it plucks the birdarang out of his hand and tosses it over his shoulder. “If you can.”

Tim just glares, the corners of his mouth pinched with pain. At least he doesn’t try to get up and embarrass himself.

“Oh, right,” it says drolly, as it crouches by Tim’s side and roughly cuts him out of his outersuit, leaving it to soak up the steadily growing pool of blood around them. Redundancy is Bruce’s middle name, so the demon won’t take any chances with trackers powered by body heat or friction. It slices down the laces of Tim’s boots and pries them off.

Once Tim’s just in his black undersuit and barefoot, it hauls Tim over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and, ignoring Tim’s grunt of agony and increasingly pale face, jumps off the roof. It heads to Jason’s nearest safehouse, now three blocks away since Tim led it on that not-so-merry chase deeper into Burnley.

“Why are you taking me,” Tim groans. “You left Steph and Damian where you put them down.”

“You’re just special, Timberly,” it says as it clears another roof, landing with a heavy thump that makes Tim groan. And because it can’t let that backhanded compliment just hang there, it adds, “Bet that’s the first time anyone’s told you that, huh?”

Tim lets out a series of awful little whimpers as demon’s stomps down each of the fire escape stairs outside his safehouse. Jason catches sight of his reflection around in a third floor window, and his back is absolutely coated with blood from Tim’s bullet-ridden legs. His jacket glistens with it.

Not good.

Clang!

He startles at the sound of metal on metal, and the demon turns his head to watch one of his glocks clatter through the slats to the alley floor.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with guns?” it asks, ducking its head to get a good look at Tim, hanging upside down.

Tim just smirks and drops Jason’s other gun from where he palmed it. Down into the alley below it goes.

“You’re going to pay for that,” the demon growls.

Tim says nothing, and Jason pushes down his worry. The snark is always the first to appear and last to disappear once a Robin puts on the cape. He tries to turn his head back to check on Tim, to make sure he’s still alive, but the demon doesn’t let him budge an inch.

It just hikes Tim higher and opens the window to his safehouse. It drops Tim on the circular area rug in the living room. Tim coughs as he rolls onto his side, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. “Sit tight, Timmy. I’ve got to make a call.”

“Good fucking luck,” Tim spits.

Jason would sigh in relief if he could.

The demon stops, turns to squint down at Tim in the dark living room. “What the hell are you talking about?”

But Tim just rolls over again and closes his eyes, his breathing too fast and too shallow.

“Now,” it pulls Jason’s phone out of his pocket, “What should we tell big bro, hm?”

The lights switch on.

The demon whirls in place as Dick pushes off the far wall, his expression furious. “You could tell me what the hell you were thinking, going after my family.”

For a beat, they just stare at each other.

Tim groans into the silence, “Quit the dramatics, Dick.”

Face stricken, Dick darts forward and starts to drag Tim closer.

“Woah, hey, not so fast,” the demon purrs as it reaches for Tim.

But Dick is faster; he yanks Tim out of the demon’s reach. Tim cries out as the carpet gives way to wooden floor. “Sorry, sorry,” Dick murmurs as he crouches down to run his fingers through Tim’s sweaty hair. He isn’t even looking at Jason.

Jason can’t believe it. He can count about a hundred ways Dick is leaving both of them open to attack. This goes beyond stupid.

Evidently the demon agrees with him: “What are you doing?”

Dick ignores the question. Doesn’t even glance up. “Brace yourself,” he says to Tim, “One…” he hefts Tim into his arms way before he gets to three. His mouth tightens as Tim’s eyes fly open and his face contorts in pain.

And then Dick turns his back on the demon.

“Where are you going?” It circles around to block their exit –

Jason blinks as his forehead rams into an invisible wall. The demon reels back, almost tripping over its own feet. It darts a hand out, grunting as its knuckles meet solid air.

“I’m going to get Tim to Alfred downstairs,” Dick says. He turns his head, so Jason can see the hard glint to his eye, “And then I’m going to get you out of my brother.”

Struck dumb, the demon doesn’t say another word as Dick disappears with Tim out the door.

What the fuck just happened?

Dick… knows?

* * *

Alone in Jason’s safehouse, the demon feels around its invisible cage, muttering to itself.

Not so fun when it happens to you, is it? Jason thinks savagely

The confines closely follow the border of the area rug, and when the demon peels it back, Jason marvels at the intricate runes carved in the wood underneath that definitely weren’t there the last time he was in this safehouse.

“How did he…” it drifts off, gnashing Jason’s teeth.

“You just couldn’t resist needling Jason, could you?” Dick says, and the demon looks up to find him leaning against the front door frame, arms crossed over his chest, his face impassive. “You did the same thing in San Francisco.” He shuts the door behind him. “It wasn’t enough to mess with the cultists that dredged you up from hell in the first place, you had to make your host’s life miserable too, even though she was just an innocent bystander.”

The demon straightens. “What can I say,” it starts, dropping the act. It stands preternaturally still. “The eternally devoted are just so boring, you know? Complete subservience wears off so soon.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Dick deadpans. He pulls a slim, leather-bound book out of nowhere. “Now, shut up. I have to concentrate. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas –”

Suck it, Jason crows to the demon. Dickie’s gonna kick your ass back to hell.

“Wait,” the demon shouts over the exorcism, “I can help you!”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Dick says tonelessly without looking up. “Omnis incursio, infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica –”

“Power? Money? Love? You could have it all!”

If Jason had a mouth, he would laugh loudly. As if Dick doesn’t have exactly as much power, money, and love as he wants. He runs multiple superhero teams, and he’s the son of Bruce Wayne. Nightwing is about as beloved as heroes go, save maybe Superman or Wonder Woman.

There’s nothing a demon could offer Dick Grayson that he couldn’t make happen himself.

Well, maybe –

“Your parents,” the demon announces, and Jason lets out a wordless scream of rage. Of course the fucker picked up on that.

Dick speeds up as wind starts to whip up around them. “Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te –”

“I could bring them back for you.”

Dick’s brow furrows, and he swallows once before restarting, “ Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare –”

“They’d live long, happy lives,” the demon adds.

Dick pauses.

Oh, fuck.

Worst of all, Jason can’t blame Dick in the slightest. Objectively, he knows John and Mary Grayson were good people, and he is not. Jason is doing good work, sure, but he wouldn’t call himself a good person.

Moreover, Dick definitely has thoughts on Jason’s definition of “good work” and exactly how much killing that requires.

His saintly parents for the low, low price of one possessed, morally compromised brother? That’s hardly a choice.

The demon goads, “They’d see all you’ve accomplished, all the lives you’ve saved, all the disasters you’ve averted.”

Jason really does not like that faraway look in Dick’s eye.

It continues, “They would be so proud, and you’d have your family back.”

Dick’s fingers tighten on pages. He looks up, his eyes flashing. “My family is right here, and I already know my parents are proud of me.” He shakes his head ruefully. “Jason, hold on. Constantine said you’re in for a pretty bumpy ride. Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis –”

The demon yells, and the wind picks up, whipping at his hair, tugging and pulling at his clothes. Pins and needles break out all over his body. And Jason can’t even enjoy having physical sensation back before it turns to white-hot pokers, like fire licking at every inch of his skin.

He can’t even tell who is screaming any more. He has no idea if Dick is still speaking at all. All he knows is the pain.

He falls to his knees, choking and spluttering over bitter, rancid air. Down on all fours, he retches with whole body heaves. The fire spreads down his throat. It burns like acid to the very pit of his stomach. He gags, and tears spring to his eyes as something black and tarry slithers out of his mouth and splats onto the carpet.

“ – audi nos!”

Jason watches, horrified, as the thing bubbles down into nothing. Panting for breath and shivering all over, he scrambles back, off the carpet until his back hits the wall beneath the window.

Silence rings in his ears.

“Jason?” Dick drops into a squat until he’s at Jason’s level even though he’s still all the way across the room by the door. “Are you back with me?”

Jason nods, the movement too quick and too jerky, but Dick just sags back against the door in relief.

“Thank god,” he mutters as he lets the book drop to the floor. He runs a weary hand down his face.

For a long moment, they just stare at each other.

Dick speaks first. “I’m so sorry, Jay.”

Jason blinks. “For what?” He’s the one who beat the majority of their family to bloody pieces over the past week. His fists gave Damian a concussion, dislocated Stephanie’s shoulder, and cracked Tim’s ribs. His mind gave away all their weaknesses, starting with Dick: his family.

“For not getting the monster back in San Francisco,” Dick says, staring at Jason’s ceiling. “I just pissed it off enough to follow me back here.”

“Oh,” is all Jason can say.

Dick just shakes his head, his throat working as he swallows. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

Jason’s skin crawls at the undeserved apology. He scrambles for a new subject instead. “I’m just trying to figure out when you knew it wasn’t me.”

Dick’s gaze flicks to the dark bookshelf in the corner of the room. It’s smaller than the one in his primary safehouse, but still stacked with well worn paperbacks and a few hardback short story anthologies. “It messed with your first edition.”

“One loose page was enough to clue you in?” he raises his eyebrows. “What kind of Sherlock Holmes shit are you on?”

Dick shrugs. “All signs pointed to you, but you were insisting it wasn’t you.” He exhales a loud breath. “It wasn’t adding up. If you had a grudge against any of us, you’d own up to it. Creatively and loudly, if I know you at all. Ergo, it was you but wasn’t you at the same time. Does that make sense?”

Jason snorts. “No.”

“So, less Sherlock Holmes and more brother intuition,” Dick says with a tired smile.

Jason can’t help pressing, “You really didn’t buy its innocence act for a second? The other option, that I was going after the kids, that’s gotta be your worst nightmare.”

“I’m an optimist,” Dick says flatly, “not an idiot. There’s a difference.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s always trust but verify with you.”

Jason shakes his head. “ Doveryay, no proveryay? Really?”

“доверяй, но проверяй” Dick repeats, the slavic syllables rolling off his tongue with a native-sounding fluency that makes Jason’s stomach clench with envy. He’s fluent too, but he will never sound like that. Dick adds, “With your history, can you blame me?”

“I guess not,” Jason says as he curls his fingers into fists.

“But this wasn’t you,” Dick says as he gets to his feet and silently walks towards Jason. “Everyone knows that, now.” He reaches down, offering Jason his hand to help him up.

Jason doesn’t take it. “It was my hands,” he mutters, “my guns.”

“But it wasn’t you,” Dick says, more firmly this time. His hand doesn’t waver. “I know you, Jay. You’ve changed. You wouldn’t attack us out of the blue.”

Jason just grunts.

Dick waggles his fingers in Jason’s face. “Come back to the Cave with me. I’m gonna pass out any minute now, and Alfred needs an assistant to help with Tim, Steph, and Damian. I don’t know what’s in the water over there, but they’re all awful at resting up.”

“Pot, kettle, Dickface.”

“Hey,” Dick holds his other hand up, “I never said anything about me.” He thrusts his offered hand closer and nearly takes out Jason’s eye. “Not getting any younger here.”

Jason scowls up at him, leaning slightly to the left to avoid Dick’s overly enthusiastic invitation. “I bet the last thing the kids want to see is my face.”

“Actually, Tim wants a record of what it’s like to get possessed, so if it ever happens to him, he knows how to beat it,” Dick says with a warm smile. “When he wakes up, he’ll be pestering you nonstop for a complete recount. And I might’ve let slip to Steph that you watch Black Sails since she’s in a pirate phase, of all things.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Dick agrees. “And as for Damian, well, he’ll want to pick over your fight in nauseating detail to know how to beat you next time.”

Jason sighs loudly. “You’re not leaving here without me, are you?”

“Nope,” Dick says cheerfully.

Jason swats Dick’s hand out of the way and gets to his feet. “If you’re wrong, you’re next on my shitlist, got it?”

Dick shudders exaggeratedly as Jason opens the window to leave. “Oh, I’m so scared.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Jason says warningly. “You’re the last Robin left, the way I see it.”

Dick throws him an odd look before he climbs through to the fire escape. “No, I’m not.”

Jason takes the steps down three at a time. “What, did Bruce pick up another black haired twerp while I wasn’t looking?”

“No,” Dick says slowly as he follows.

“Then what the hell are you talking about?”

“You, Jay. I’m talking about you,” Dick says, deliberately slowly like the demon might’ve taken more than a few braincells when it vacated Jason’s body. “I’m not the last Robin; we are.”

Jason turns away, his face heating. He jumps the rest of the way to the alley floor, scowling as Dick backflips his way down. “C’mon,” he mutters, “Alfred’s never gonna take a break if we’re not there.”

#whumptober2024 #batfam #batfam fanfic #spirit possession #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #dick grayson & jason todd #rae writes fic #no.21

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echo-stimmingrose · 2 years ago

Text

Jason: *getting dressed up for a date, looking absolutely horrendous*

Nico: No absolutely not! You have no fashion sense, I'm taking you shopping.

Thalia: Um no! You are not taking him shopping! We don't need him looking like you!

Nico: Like me??? I look like you!!!

Thalia: Exactly! We already have two emo kids, that's enough!

Percy: Plus he's a fucking nerd and could not pull that look off.

Jason: I'm right here!

Percy: Hush Jason, the adults are talking!

Jason: Adults?!? Nico is younger than me!

Nico: Okay, but am I?

Jason: I-I uh YES!!!

Nico: I have the back pain of a seventy year old man that says otherwise!

Thalia: Guys! Back to the point! Finding Jason something to wear that doesn't look like he's never dressed himself before. No offense.

Jason: Hey-!

Percy: Hush! We are trying to make sure you don't make a fool of yourself!

Jason: I hate it here.

Thalia: You're one to talk, Percy! I've literally never seen you in any thing other than jeans and a camp half blood shirt.

Nico: And it's always dirty.

Percy: At least I don't look like Hot Topic threw up on me!

Thalia: Don't you dare disrespect Hot Topic like that! You still own a CHB tee that's literally cut in half it's a crop top!

Percy: So? It still fits!

Nico: The sad part is he actually looks pretty good in a crop top.

Percy: Thank you!

Jason: Guys...?

Thalia: I could pull off a crop top way better than you!

Percy: You could not!

Jason: Guys.

Thalia: Wanna bet on that kelp man?

Jason: Guys!!!!

Nico, Thalia, and Percy: *Stops arguing and turns to him*

Jason: I still need help!

Thalia: Sorry bud, we'll find you something that looks good and something you like.

Jason: It's not just that.....

Nico: What?

Jason: I've never been on a date before... I don't know what to expect....

Thalia: Okay... Um....

Jason: What?

Thalia: Well...I mean, I've never been on a date either, I was a tree at twelve then a hunter of Artemis almost immediately after.

Jason:.... Nico.....?

Nico: I got nothing for you.

Thalia: Holy shit, does Percy have the most dating experience out of all of us???

Jason: That's just sad to be honest.

Percy: I will have you know, Annabeth and I are very happy thank you very much!

Nico: It took you guys what? Five years to admit you liked each other?

Percy: How's Will, Nico?

Nico: *glowering* Shut up.

Percy: Look Jason, we all know you two like each other and this date was a long time coming. It is easier said than done, but you need to relax, you don't want to go into a date acting like there's a stick up your ass.

Jason: Jee thanks.

Percy: I'm just saying, you already know that you enjoy spending time with him, this is just spending time with him with a little extra.

Jason: Thank you, I just don't like being unprepared.

Percy: Which makes sense.

Nico: But let's be honest here, this is a date with Leo, no one could prepare for whatever he may have in store.

Jason: *laughs a little* Yeah, it just feels stupid. I've fought in literal wars but I'm this nervous over a date?

Thalia: Hey don't call yourself stupid, this is new for you. You are allowed to be nervous as long as you don't let that anxiety take over.

Percy: Exactly. Plus a date is way different than the battlefield. Most of the time you aren't fighting for your life.

Nico: But you may want to bring a fire extinguisher for this one.

Thalia: It will go just fine. And if he fucks up I'll strike him with lighting.

Jason: Um... please don't.

Nico: And if you're worried about whether or not you both like each other just know you two made it so obvious even Percy figured it out.

Percy: What's that supposed to mean?

Nico: point proven.

Thalia: Plus you two admitted your feelings within a year of knowing each other so you're already doing better than these two idiots *points to Percy and Nico*

Jason: It does make me feel better knowing I'm doing better than Percy.

Percy: *smiling* Watch it, Grace, you're a couple words away from having that date underwater.

Jason: *laughs softly*

Thalia: *hugs him* you've got this bud, now come on let's go find you something other than whatever the hell it is you're wearing.

1K notes · View notes

xoxochb · 4 months ago

Note

semaine de la mode

idk if you'd do this, but can i request jason grace x praetor!daughter of bacchus to lacy?

reader and jason have been friends for as long as they could remember (aka since they were five years old) and she's got this biggest crush on him, but no one knows about it, even jason.

skip to when he vanishes, she looks for him day and night, like she vowed not to stop looking for him.

and then, he comes back with piper as his gf

basically “you've got the one thing that i want,” is reader kinda telling piper? idk if that makes sense.

long story short, reader decides to join the hunters of diana/artemis bcs she can't handle the heartbreak anymore. but, piper had already broken up with jason bcs she knows bro is in love with reader, he just forgot about it (aphrodite kid skillz)

pls make it a happy ending 😭

⋆·˚ ༘ * lacy

warnings: angst with resolved ending pairing: jason grace x praetor! daughter of bacchus a/n: this really isn’t my best work I’m sorry 😭

you would have to disagree when people said childhood crushes never last because in your case you feel it may never end. your undying love for the son of jupiter started when you were five the moment your eyes settled on him, his blond hair and electric blue eyes captivating. for as far back as your crush you had been best friends, always. did you not give enough signs? or was jason grace an oblivious idiot?

oh how you wish he would know. nobody knew. you were left to suffer silently with your feelings. praetor duties had to come first, if you were to confess your feelings and be rejected it would make your life at camp more difficult than it already was, you’d have to suppress your love for the rest of your life. both you and jason being praetors would have made things worse, you would see him all the time! you couldn’t live with the awkwardness of that

one day you awoke to find that your very crush had gone missing, no trace of anything left behind. the first day was a shock. missing? you knew jason, which is why you knew exactly that he would leave like this. the second day you began an investigation, collecting information from his peers. where did you see him last? what was his demeanor? did he have a reason? was he forced?

you were left with many unanswered questions meaning you had to work yourself. day and night you searched every inch of camp jupiter, twice a day until you suspected he wasn’t at camp anymore. you then took it upon yourself to check the nearby premises of camp, checking lakes, forests, streets, anything you could find. even if your friends at camp insisted you take a break, sleep, eat, anything deemed healthy you refuses to give up looking, you couldn’t do anything until you knew jason was safe

“y/n I am begging you please sleep you’re going to kill your self” reyna sprawls along your bed, asking you for the millionth time to take a break

you learn back against the headboard of your bed. “I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to”

“eat something at least”

“I’m not hungry”

reyna sits up to face you. “you’ve got to be, you haven’t eaten in weeks”

you shrug and reyna sighs, standing up. “I’m going to get you something to eat and I’m going to stay here until you finish it”

you watch as the praetor leaves, only hoping she won’t keep her words

ੈ✩‧₊˚

a week later you receive the greatest of news that jason had returned to camp and almost ecstatic you rush to the crowd, only to find him looped arms with another girl- a beautiful girl you would have to assume she was one of venus’ children. your heart breaks into tiny pieces when you realize you spent all your time searching for a boy who found love in another girl

does she know she has the one thing you’ve always wanted? probably not

you leave to your cabin, yet again being left with your relentless thoughts. did he forget about you? about how you were best friends? did he purposely get a girlfriend? of course he liked her she was probably more put together than you ever were- silly daughter of bacchus nobody would want to date you. rambunctious, filled with energy, jason had every right not to chose you

later that night you received a knock on your door. and of course it was just as you were falling to sleep for the first time in forever. sleepily you answer it, facing the very boy occupying your thoughts. should you hug him or should you slam the door in his face?

“hey” you mutter, almost awkwardly.

“can I come in?”

no.

“yeah, sure”

you lead jason to your bed, both taking seats. the silence you once thought comforting you wish wasn’t there

you play with the edges of your blanket. “why did you leave?”

“it wasn’t by choice. I got all my memories wiped”

“then what?”

jason sighs. “I woke up on a bus. piper was there. so was leo. I didn’t understand anything, I’ve never met them in my life but they claimed to know me so I assumed I did. over time my memory started coming back slowly, I started remembering you, my best friend. I couldn’t wait to come back to see you”

you discard you blanket and bring your legs up to your chest, resting your head on your knees. “she’s your girlfriend? a daughter of venus perhaps?”

“aphrodite”

“she’s pretty. I’m happy for you”

jason stays silent for a moment, you assume trying to think of the right words because what the hell are you supposed to say to someone after being gone for weeks?

“I missed you y’know?”

you feel tears threaten to escape your eyes, thankful for the darkness of the cabin.

“I missed you too” you whisper

“do you want me to stay over tonight? like old times?”

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you laying with another girl”

jason nods, respecting your wishes. “will I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be busy”

oh how you hated lying to him. disappointment fills his senses, you can almost feel it radiating off him. jason takes this as a hint and leaves, allowing you be alone

the sleep you were about to get was replaced by tear filled eyes, staining your pillow

ੈ✩‧₊˚

was love worth the tears? was a boy worth the tears? it couldn’t have been. a big decision awaits you as the hunting goddess stands before you

“are you sure this is what you want?” asks diana

you nod. “I think, yes”

diana sighs. “as much as I hate love I don’t think you should join just because of one boy. Immortality is a serious decision, not something you’d do over a silly situation. I will come back in a few days and ask you the same question, I want you to think about this thoroughly”

you obey her words. was this too soon? you visit the lake, skipping rocks on the water. one, two, three, four, five, six… it falls down into the water

“I didn’t know you were a professional rock skipper” a voice says behind you, a voice you know all too well

you turn around to face jason grace. “what are you doing here?”

jason walks towards you, picking up a rock and skipping it, not making it nearly as far as yours

“I wanted to talk to you”

“about what?”

“you- uhm, me. us?” he sighs before continuing, “last night, our talk… it made me realize something. well actually piper made me realize it. I always thought of us as best friends, our friendship was always something special to me but I thought it was just because we were friends. but when you said I couldn’t stay over at your cabin it made me think maybe we were always closer than I thought. after I left I was talking to piper about you, and you know her being a daughter of aphrodite she seems to know about this love stuff. she told me she felt that I liked you and I told her about how close we were and about how we’ve always been friends. she made me realize that we’ve never been just friends”

“what are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say that I like you and I’ve been too stupid to realize it”

“you’re not stupid, jason”

“I am. I’m really stupid and I feel awful that I never acknowledged your feelings and let you think I just thought of us as friends all this time”

“are you sure? you’re not just saying this to make me feel better?”

“of course not, y/n/n. if you still like me and you don’t think I’m a complete idiot I would love to be your boyfriend”

you might’ve shed a tear or two. pure relief floods through you. happy tears flow from your eyes and jason pulls you into his chest, allowing you to let your tears out. he runs his hand up and down your back in a comforting notion until you calmed down

you lift your head up to look at him for the first time since he’s got back, making you realize how much you truly missed him

“I still think you’re an idiot” you mumble

“I’m fine with that, I deserve it”

you laugh. “jason?”

“yeah?”

“I’d love for you to be my boyfriend too”

jason smiles. the same one he’s always reserved for just you. “would it be okay if I kissed you?”

with the close proximity you were in any other boy would’ve went for it regardless of what you wanted. but you knew jason grace. he was the same boy that always made sure your comfort and needs came before his

“of course”

without another thought he leans in to capture your lips. for the first time, and hopefully never the last

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #pjo hoo toa #pjo spoilers #jason grace imagines #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace #jason grace x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader

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mochinek0 · 2 years ago

Text

Where is MY Boyfriend(FINAL)

Damian proposes.

Marinette: No

Damian: What?

Marinette: Damian, we've only been dating for five months.

Damian: You kicked the Joker's ass for me. You saved me!

Marinette: And if I hadn't saved you....would you still be proposing?

Silence.

Marinette: Exactly. Let's get to know each other better first

Damian: Fine, but I save you next time.

Marinette: How?

Damian shows off his katana collection. Marinette turns and looks at him

Marinette: Deal

She goes back to looking at the katanas. Damian ego boosted that she trusts him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

BatFam find out she rejected him

Bruce: Oh thank god.

Jason & Damian: What the hell?

Dick: She's adorable!

Bruce: You just met her! At least she's smart enough to realize that!

Tim: Also, if she said yes, she likely would have been after the Wayne money.

Damian: Didn't think about that

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3 months later:

Damian proposing each month

Marinette: You have to stop proposing!

Damian: But I have your parent's blessing

Mairnette: You called my parents?

Damian: I had to get their blessing.

Marinette turns red

Marinette: 1 year

Damian: Huh?

Marinette: We've been dating for eight months. Wait four more. I want this to last, please. I don't want this to end and I'm afraid it will. I love you. I love Titus and lil Alfred. I love Jerry and Batcow. I love your art and how much you understand me.

Damian sees she's tearing up. Gets up from kneeling and hugs her. Kisses her forehead.

Damian: 1 year.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

True to his word, Damian proposed on their one year anniversary.

Marinette: Yes.

Parents learn they are finally engaged. Happy for their daughter.

Former class learns Mari is never coming back and happily engaged to someone on another continent.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joker's mouth is finally healed.

Breaks out of Arkham and tries to take control of an art auction.

Spots Damian Wayne. Looks around cautiously.

No Marinette in sight.

Marinette comes out of the bathroom.

'Fuck!'

Drops his weapons and laughing gas.

Joker: Nope. Nope. Nope.

Goons: Boss?

Joker: No!

Walks out to GCPD and just gets in the back seat

Officer: J-Joker?

Joker: No!

Slams door closed

Joker: Just take me back

Marinette looks to Damian confused

Marinette: Did I miss something?

Damian: Not a thing.

TAG LIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @missmadwoman @meira-3919 @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @blep-23 @fangirlingfanatic @darkhinauniverse @ravenr22 @im-a-satanic-ritual @ravennm84 @bianca-hooks123 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @starling218

#damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #daminette #dating #proposal #rejection #comprimise #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #batfam #bruce wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #joker #mlbxdc #bamf marinette #bonus content #mochinek0

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necrotic-nephilim · 3 months ago

Note

what are your favourite batcest ships and why?

AAA i love this question so much. i'm going to limit myself to a top five, because otherwise, i'd just end up listing all of them. the true joy of batcest is they're all so good for such different reasons and there are so many unique dynamics you can explore.

JayTim - it's funny bc, before i started this blog, i don't know if i would've put these two losers as my number one. but because i've done so much deep diving into their dynamic and i write them the most, i think it'd be a disservice for them to be anything *but* number one. their canon dynamic is just. so fun to play with. i truly love all of their interactions, particularly pre-Flashpoint. the concepts of Tim holding such contempt for Jason while Jason is weirdly obsessed with Tim. i'm a fan of Hannibal and Killing Eve and well. if this isn't a Hannigram-coded ship idk *what* is. i like ships where love and hate co-exist and there's no real "happily ever after", just fucked up co-existing, where they crawl back to each other like a bad habit and really, this ship is that so perfectly. the themes of jealousy in the Robin mantle. Tim wearing Jason's Red Robin suit to punish himself. i will likely never shut up about them. even in the New-52, there's such a substance to them, though the dynamic is wildly different. they will always be so weirdly dependent on each other's existence. i love them.

BruDick - you can't outdo the doer, i fear. i think i like BruDick mostly for the history of it, yk. there's genuinely *so much* queer history seeped into the homoeroticism of Batman and Robin, these two have been a symbol for queer people for decades. but the ship itself has so many dynamics i love. problematic age gap, "are we family or lovers", "i can't be in a room alone with you without getting into a screaming match but if you called i drop everything for you". all of it. i especially favor 80s/90s BruDick when they were in their divorce era just because it's so messy. Dick has canonically said he would die for Bruce, even during their arguments. no matter what, these two will always be single-mindedly devoted to each other. there will be other Robins, but none of them will compare to Dick Grayson, for Bruce. it's a unique and complicated bond that has endless layers to peel back. they always crawl back to each other bc no one else will match their level of intensity.

DamiTim - years and years ago, when i was a teen trying to people-please with how i existed in fandom, i used to insist i didn't like batcest and found it icky and gross. but there was one DamiTim fic that was my exception. that fic was my fucking roman empire. i reread it like once a year even though it's not completed and likely never will be i do not care. so now that i've killed the morality police in my head and i let myself ship what i actually want to ship, this ship holds a top place in my heart just bc of that fic alone. but in general i do fucking love their dynamic. similar to JayTim there's just so much mutual hatred in these two that has endless potential. Damian's insistence to not see Tim as a Wayne and as a legitimate brother/heir to Bruce is something you can play a lot if you give Damian an angry, fucked up crush on Tim he doesn't want to admit to. they have so many reasons to dislike each other, so to try to get them to slowly fall in love is a fun challenge. they either have a long complicated forgiveness arc and end up a happy married couple or they are the couple that tries to kill each other once a week. no in-between.

JeanTim - there's like. one person here on tumblr who goes as hard for this ship as i do and truly god bless them bc they feed me. Jean-Paul is too underrated in the batcest scene. once i reread Knightfall, i will have to help popular this tag on ao3. i enjoy both a very fucked up version of this ship during the peak of the Knightfall arc, where Jean-Paul is deep in his murder Batman era and Tim is trying to stop him to no real avail, but i *also* think there's so much you can do with the ship afterwards, where Jean-Paul is trying to make up for what he's done and be a better person and better hero. they're the peak Batman/Robin ship, to me. they truly care about each other, but have a very complicated/bloody history and i just. man i love it so dearly. i've been meaning to write a fic where Jean-Paul goes to Tim post the Sword of Azrael (2022) arc to properly discuss and apologize for all his actions in Knightfall for his personal healing and they end up fucking. it could be sweet and cute or kinky fun bc what is the joy of a character with that much Catholic guilt if you don't give them a weird religious kink.

BruCarrie - The Dark Knight Returns got me into comics and i will defend it till the day i die. Carrie Kelley can be pried from my cold dead hands. i just really love these two? Carrie took one look at that cranky old bastard and decided she was his problem. and Bruce is at a stage where he should be very averse to the idea of having a Robin, he knows it's a bad idea. but he just. accepts her anyway. idk how to explain their dynamic other than she plunks herself in his lap and stitches up his wounds while telling him he's an idiot and he lets her even if he's grumbling about it. they have the biggest age gap of any Batman/Robin ship and for that, they should get like. a dead dove gold star no matter how rare the pair is.

also honorable mention goes to BruTim, because *god* do i love the concept of Tim offering himself up to Bruce as Robin in every way, knowing that there are likely sexual/romantic implications to being Robin. it's one of my favorite flavors of batcest to exist. i don't view them as a "happily ever after" ship, because Bruce will always go back home to Dick, but it's a fun lil dead dove moment.

#necrotic answerings #batcest #jaytim #brudick #damitim #jeantim #brucarrie #brutim #can you tell tim is my favorite.#i just think he's neat.#it's probably the projection.#also i checked while writing this and wtf do you mean brucarrie has only 3 fics on ao3.#did i hallucinate the one i thought i read.#i think i fucking did bc i can't find it.#apparently it's not a rarepair ship it's a goddamn pool noodle i'm floating off through the ocean hanging on for dear life #if i write brucarrie on this page can i convince you all to ship it.#i know frank miller's writing is bad just ignore the canon it's fine #tkdr universe isn't *good* per se #but carrie is a darling girl and i will emancipate her from frank miller's grubby hands. she's mine now.#genuinely considering changing my banner on this blog to carrie but it'd ruin my color scheme.#jeantim is also very unpopular and none of you are inspired /lh #you can make that SO dead dove.#i barely remember most of knightfall i rlly need to reread it properly #and the rest of jean-paul's 90s content #i am so serious tho that damitim fic rewired my brain chemistry.#i think about it like once a week.#and i usually dislike no capes aus i can't even remember why i read it at the time #but god did it reset me.

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hanihazeljade · 2 months ago

Text

Three Settings

Christmas is around the corner and the manor is exceedingly overflowing of it's spirit, except Tim.

Part Five of Three Weeks

Prev - Three Events

Next - Three Videos

(CW: namecalling, explicit sexual intercourse, hatred of christmas, liquor)

Tim hates Christmas.

It is a holiday that the Drake household never celebrates. Jack and Janet’s belief is that why do you need a holiday to spend with your family when you can do it whenever you can. Maybe it's because of the fact that their family cannot be together every Christmas as his parents are in their digs.

So, Tim never really likes Christmas that well. He never liked the idea of celebrating Christmas, he never did it with his parents and never in the house of Wayne's, and he basically used Christmas in Japan as a way to have a new guy in his bed, fucking his brains out.

So, seeing the Waynes to get some Christmas spirit in him. He wanted to roll his eyes at them but he, unfortunately, was trying to be civil with them. However, one more offer of decorating another tree, he has half his mind of jumping to the nearest window and breaking his leg so he won't be able to celebrate it. But he wanted to dance at Cass’ wedding, so that is a no.

It seems like the world's greatest detective family is a fucking idiot. Intellectually intelligent but emotionally unavailable. A fucking hypocrite he is. They can’t seem to comprehend that Timothy hates being around Christmas things or just being around the vibe of Christmas.

Timothy is an amazing human being who practised patience and meditation but he once again has his limits. So, he escaped to the comfort of his room, as the Christmas jingles echoing throughout the hallway of the manor. This is the worst. He wished that he could just sneaked out and go to the clubs in the Diamond District and have someone to fuck his worries for a while, after all it’s been a while since he got laid back in Japan.

But then again, why can't he do it here? He is a well functioning adult, has a good income and anyone can’t say shit about him bedding anyone. After all Bruce had bed women as the same number of the days of the year, Richard has also had his fair share of laying some women in his bed to please. Jason may have died virgin but definitely likes to have a taste of Richard’s leftovers and maybe some original taste to himself. Damian may look rigid but Gazette saw him going home with some models. And Tim is a healthy man, he has needs. He was not the same stuck-up Robin that they know.

So he gets up from laying down and starts cleaning himself well. He has guys to woo to satiate his needs.

He has some worries that he will get caught but he remembered that it is near Christmas Eve, the Christmas related crimes are on the top, so therefore all hands on the deck, even Alfred. So he just whooshed to the front door, and he was gone to the Diamond District.

He turned on the radio on his phone to listen to some news as to who is the main rogue for the night and it looks like Ivy and Harley are having a date and Mr. Freeze is doing a scene from Frozen. With that he knew to avoid Robinson Park and the Cherry Hills. He took a cab to take him to some club in Diamond District, after all, Richard will probably patrol around the Robinson Park, Jason will continue his route to the Crime Alley, Cass and Steph will be trying to find where the two love birds to stop their date, the only vigilantes he could meet is Batman and Grackle, Damian new mantle for now.

But it is not like they would stop by the rich ass bar when there are major rogues out loose. Tim would rather not risk it to choose a run down bar. After all, he is a delicate maiden.

The bar he chooses is filled with different men, as it is a gay bar. Some are ogling him not so subtly and he knows, after all he wore one of Steph’s see through blouse and the tightest jeans that he had. His hair was styled to a calculated messy bun and his body was adorned in different accessories. And his makeup that makes his blue eyes popped so much more and the lip oil he applied to make his lips so juicy.

He is getting drinks left and right but he the one that he fancies are some stuck up assholes, so much for his type, that probably doesn’t do shit in bed. But of course, he got one. There is a tall, buff man with tattoos lingering on his skin. The man’s gaze is as sharp as a viper waiting to plunge on its prey and Tim is feeling things for himself.

Not wasting any more time, Tim strikes up a conversation to the guy, “Hey handsome, nice tats.” he said as he walked closer to the man.

The man eagerly put his hands on Tim’s waist and put Tim on his lap as Tim squealed flirtingly, “Would you want to explore more of my ink?” He said as he tightened the grip on his waist and Tim was loving the grip.

Tim giggled, “Then may I know the name, first?” he asked cheekily.

The man smirked at Tim’s coy display of naiveness, “Name’s Nathan, baby. How ‘bout you, angel?”

“Mine is Timothy, but angel works just fine too.” Timothy said as he closed their distance and kissed the guy, passionately and hard. They were going with it like a man discovering an oasis in the middle of dessert. Both of them groped each other until they separated to catch some breath.

“My place or yours?” Nathan asked, as he grinds his hard on to Tim’s ass.

Tim giggled as he rocked back, “Yours, just visiting here.” He said as he can feel the package beneath him.

Nathan chuckled, “Poor little angel, visiting a family in this wicked city.” Having a family in this godforsaken city when you already escaped is such a pain.

Tim rolled his eyes at such remarks, “Let’s not talk about them when we could be going to your place right now.” he said as he pouted as if upset that someone is talking about his ‘family’.

Nathan just quirk his brow, Gotham has a lot of kids that don't have a good relationship with their family, and he was just here for some pretty boys, not to settle with someone. “Eager little vixen you are, angel.” he redirects the topic to the beautiful man in front of him, after all, he doesn’t want to let this angel go just because he is curious about things that he doesn’t care about.

It seems like the pretty angel took it, as he caressed his biceps, “Well, I need to be if I want a strong man to handle me.”

“Then shall we get out of here, huh?”

++++++

Tim left Nathan’s apartment at 10 in the morning. Nathan is a beast in bed, one of his best sex in his life. The morning sex is a plus and he will never complain about the surprises staying over. His horny self is now satiated.

However, his good mood was once thrown outside of the window as he went back to Wayne Manor. He was not expecting such commotion in this early morning. He was about to leave them to argue some more but Damian saw him.

“Timothy! You are finally home.” With Damian’s declaration of his presence, everyone went to him and they definitely all can see the bruises and bites of Nathan through the see through blouse. Honestly he likes those marks of possession.

Steph reacts first after seeing her blouse that was gifted by Cass, “Is that my blouse?”

Jason saw all the dark marks behind the see through blouse, “What is that?!” he reacted.

“Why do you smell like sex?” Richard asks as he wants to hug Tim but he rather not as he smells the strong smell of intercourse. “Tim you did not hook up, right?!”

“It’s hickeys, Jason.” Tim rolled his eyes, everyone was acting like a virgin. “And I did hook up with someone, they are very good at bed.” he smirked at them, and he saw each of them have a shocked expression, especially Grayson. But he never expected the words coming out of Richard’s mouth.

“Stop whoring around Tim, this isn’t like you!”

A slap cracked in the atmosphere. Tim was also shocked that he slapped Dick Grayson across his face, but his anger was far more superior than his shock.

“So what? I changed, Richard, just in case you still haven’t noticed. I am not like who I was seven years ago, because now? I love myself, I know my value without pleasing anybody. I know who I am. So what, if I am sleeping around with different guys each week? You never heard jackshit about me when you are preening with your gaggle of redheads.” He said as he went back to the front door, but got held back by Damian.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Tim pulls his arm away from the tight grip of Damian, “Away from you, if your feeble detective brain couldn’t recognise what I am gonna do, Damian.”

“Where?”

“That, I believe, is none of your business.” And the door was slammed shut.

++++++

A knock in the middle of the supposedly peaceful Saturday in her apartment woke her up. She doesn’t know who in their right mind knocks on her door, on the weekend, that she knew, to wake her up before the sun starts setting down?

She opened the door and was surprised to see Timothy Drake, the man that she knew to rather sleep until the sun was halfway down if he had a choice, standing outside of her apartment, and asked, “Hey Tam. Mind if I stay over?” with a miserable face and anger was still lingering in his eyes. But Tam just let Tim in, by opening her door wider.

Tim plopped down the couch and wanted to scream as Tam went to her bathroom to freshen up and have a mind to look after Tim.

When she finished, she finally looked at Tim properly. Tim’s hair that was normally was in such perfection but now there strays. The smell of sex and the hickeys were also a dead give away that Tim had a nice night. And honestly, Tam was jealous. She could also have the best night of her life if just a certain baldie just stops pushing her. But enough of Prudence, she has a Timothy to babysit.

Tam sat beside him and asked, “What happened?” because Tim is obviously not fine and would not ask any unnecessary questions regarding his feelings when it was so obvious.

Tim just sighed loudly, and screamed in the pillow he had on his lap. And once he was done, he raised his head and finally responded, “Just got called a whore, nothing more.” His answer was muffled by the pillow as his head was still buried on it.

‘Whore?’ Tam thought to herself as she thought of all the people around Tim,“By who?” It cannot be within the family of Waynes as each of the Waynes have a notorious long notch to their bedpost.

But alas, Tim destroyed her thoughts, “The second whore himself, Dick Grayson.”

Tam was taken aback, after all, Richie Wayne is next to Brucie Wayne in the most notches. He was like Brucie but in moderation. “Wow. Didn’t he have like a harem of ginger fuckers?” She told Tim as she had been so active in the capes scene.

And with that Tim explodes, as he finally has someone to know how he actually feels! “He told me to stop whoring around! Like I am making money by getting fucked by those guys, well maybe I should. Just to pissed him off more.” Tim said as if he was thinking of going back with a bunch of dollars in his hand as if he just finished a night being a stripper. That was a nice thought, maybe he would do that.

Tam pat Tim’s shoulder, “Petty, but how about let’s drink our asses tonight? It’s Sunday tomorrow.” she proposed to Tim as she knows Tim just went to the bar to hook up but not to drink and she has some strong beer and no one can blame her. She is a hardworking woman under the Wayne Enterprise, with scandals far deeper than the Mariana Trench.

Tim had a thought for a while and he didn't have any to lose, so he agreed. “Sure.” Maybe he can use the hangover as an excuse not to celebrate Christmas.

Tam stood up, “I’ll order some chicken and pizza, and some fries too.” and went back to her room to get her phone. But she quickly came back throwing clothes at Tim, “Wear this, I don’t want to have a reminder that you got laid before me.”

#tim drake #fanfic #chaotic tim drake #unhinged tim drake #timothy jackson drake #bar #one night stand #tam fox

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rxnn · 8 months ago

Text

Bleeding Heart [four]

one, two, three, five, six

❥❥❥

Lo-and-behold, Leia and Callum woke up again about a few hours later to get Callum on the bus.

Leia, to put it simply, felt like shit as she locked the door behind them, pocketing the key. Her hands and shoulders ached from the previous night's activity.

When she finally heard the soft click she pocketed the key and turned, seeing Callum rubbing his eyes, yawning. She sighed and ruffled his hair making him smile sleepily up at her then shyly stretch his arms upward, making grabby hands at her.

Leia chuckled and picked him up, putting him on her hip and began walking them out of their building.

"We're gonna try our best today," she whispered the mantra she told him every morning as they walked to the bus stop. "We're gonna do amazing things."

Callum nodded, tucking his head under Leia's chin, gripping her puffy jacket in his small fist.

"We are kind, we are…smart," Callum continued, yawning before snuggling more into Leia's warmth as the cold morning breeze rolled over the pair.

"Good job, baby." Leia cooed, pulling his hat further over his head.

When they made it to the bus stop, Leia wished she didn't have to let him go, but he wiggled from her arms and waved goodbye as he climbed up the steps behind the other kids. She waited until the bus pulled away from the stop and disappeared in the morning rush.

She sighed heavily and looked up at the cloudy Gotham sky, wondering if it would start raining once again. She hoped not. When she snapped out of it, she spun on her heel to head back home and get some extra sleep but was met by someone slamming into her followed by the sting of something cold seeping through her shirt.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" The person said, backing away with a nervous chuckle.

Leia didn't look up, looking down at the iced coffee stain that now decorated the top of her shirt. Thankfully, it was older and had suffered its many years of use with its faded black letters that spelled out her high school.

"It's okay.” It really wasn't but she didn't have the energy to argue, so instead, she brushed the person off with a wave of her hand, finally looking up to smile assuringly at them. It wouldn't be worth it to make a big deal out of this. "Accidents happen, I've suffered worse than a coffee spill."

The man was a little taller than her, only by an inch or two. He had short black hair that framed a his slightly tanned face and dark blue eyes. Strong build with broad shoulders, not near as muscular as Jason, but definitely fit. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while the other held the now empty culprit of her stained shirt.

"Here.” He took off his scarf that matched his eyes. "To cover the stain."

"Oh, no, I'm al—"

"I insist." He ignored her and wrapped the scarf around her loosely, still warm from where it'd hung around his neck.

Leia hesitated, fighting a flinch when he adjusted it around her neck to cover the stain. Once he was done, he smiled, proud of his work.

"Thanks..." She trailed off, unsure about where to go from here.

"Richard.” He held out his hand, a charming smile on his lips. "Sorry I should've started with that, huh?"

"Nice to meet you." She couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking his outstretched hand. "Sorry for bumping into you. I should've been paying attention."

"No, it's my fault." Richard shook his head before pursing his lips and clearing his throat. "Can I get you a coffee? There's a shop around the corner I've heard is pretty good."

Though she knew which one he was talking about, Leia hesitated again. He seemed nice enough, charming even. Probably nicer than most of the stand-offish people in Gotham.

"Please? I feel really bad." Richard chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

There's really no harm in free coffee, is there?

"Y'know what? Sure, who am I to deny a free cup of coffee?"

A wide, pleased smile spread across his face.

"Great! Thank you."

"I should be thanking you."

He shook his head, still smiling and placed a hand just below her shoulder blades, leading her through the morning rush crowd.

"I don't think I caught your name." He tilted his head down toward her ear to be heard over the chatter of the people around them.

"Leia," she replied as they turned the corner.

She wanted to tell him to take his hand off her as it made her skin crawl for some reason. To her luck, he dropped his hand to his side as soon as they rounded the corner, turning down a smaller, less busy street.

"Pretty name."

Leia hummed, raising an unimpressed brow at him, a teasing smirk adorning her lips. "Do you say that to every girl you meet?"

"Nah, just the ones I spill coffee on."

"So this is a common occurrence then?" She teased, holding the door open for him to follow her as they entered the warm coffee shop.

"What can I say? I'm a clutz." He shrugged.

Leia laughed, tucking some hair behind her ear that had fallen from where she’d pulled it away from her face. He joined, shaking his head as they walked to the cashier. They both gave their order and he paid, innocently asking what she did for a living.

"Oh, I'm a nurse," she shrugged, making sure to leave out where she worked specifically. One could never be too careful even if a cute guy was buying her coffee.

As they continued chatting while they waited for their coffee, Leia realized where she recognized him from. He was Richard — rather Dick — Grayson, the son of Bruce Wayne aka the guy plastered on the evening news every other week for the newest charity announcement. She quickly decided to leave it be and not make a big deal out of it. The guy was nice enough to give her his scarf then buy her a drink because he felt bad about spilling his on her, so the least she could do was not freak the fuck out about who his dad was.

"That's cool! Got any fun stories?"

"Plenty. What do you do if you don't mind me asking?" She didn't know a lot about Bruce Wayne and his family, just that he had a shit ton of kids and was a playboy from what she'd heard her coworkers gossiping about.

"I'm a detective in Blüdhaven."

"Blüudhaven, huh? What are you doing here in Gotham?"

"Just visiting some family." He hummed, gazing around the crowded street.

"That's sweet," she cooed, missing the way he rolled his eyes.

"Leia!" A barista shouted.

Leia perked up and walked over before Dick could, thanking the barista, and walked back, handing the Dick his own drink. She caught sight of two women waiting for their own drinks whispering and pointing between herself and Dick causing her stomach to drop. God forbid someone thought this was a date. Now that she thought about it, most of the cafe was either trying to not look over or were blatantly staring.

"Thanks again for paying, you didn't have to." Leia smiled, putting a little more space between them and trying to ignore the stares boring into her skull.

"It's no problem, really.” He glanced over her shoulder at what she assumed was the two whispering women. "You wanna get out of here?"

"What a wonderful idea."

❥

This wasn't Dick's plan, but it was working even better than he'd hoped. He wasn't supposed to spill his coffee on her, that was an accident. Originally, he was just going to bump her shoulder, compliment her, start a conversation, the whole charming guy shebang. He was curious about why Jason trusted her so much. But it went completely off course when she'd turned on her heel and knocked into him, successfully spilling his coffee all over her shirt.

He'd noted her caution and how she monitored her responses as she kept to the point and without little detail. It was the bare minimum, smart, but it didn’t matter much seeing as he nabbed a copy of Tim's deep dive into her person. When Dick asked Tim for it, Tim had rolled his eyes and said she was clean (the whole family was painfully aware of Tim's habit of deep dives on people, so it wasn't a surprise that he'd already vetted her). It took a little convincing, but Dick managed to get a copy.

Tim was right, she was clean. Graduated high school with top marks, went to good college and graduated with her BSN and immediately went into the workforce. She’d been caring for Callum, her son, who just started 1st grade at Widow Creek Elementary, since she was twenty years old. According to the police reports Tim dug up, Callum had been left on their doorstep when he was barely a few months old. There was no record of his parents and after some fighting in court, she got custody. Sadly, that only lasted until about a year ago where Matilda Kernell, one of Leia's closest friends, died in a horrific car crash in January that year according to their local newspaper.

Dick watched her out of the corner of his eye as she fidgeted under the looks of those in the cafe. He really hated the attention he and his family received.

"Thanks again for paying, you didn't have to." Leia smiled. He noticed her shift away from him and he had to fight a frown.

"It's no problem, really.” He glanced over her shoulder spotting two whispering women that were not so subtly pulling out their phones. "You wanna get out of here?"

"What a wonderful idea." The relief in her voice made him feel a little bad seeing as the attention was based on him.

He positioned himself behind her, blocking any view a camera would’ve gotten of her. She opened the door for him again, a blast of chilly October air slamming into them.

As they started walking back toward where they bumped into each other, they continued their small talk. He offhandedly mentioned that he spoke fluent Italian just to spark conversation and he swore she almost got whiplash from swinging her head so fast. With a huge smile, she confessed that she was fluent too, having learned it for a friend. She also admitted she wanted to go to Italy one day. Dick jumped at the opportunity and told her he’d been. Somehow, her smile widened, tension leaving her as he told her what he’d seen and done.

“That sounds amazing,” she admitted, glancing up at the sky as the sun broke through the clouds.

“It really was.”

They came to a stop and Dick found himself scrambling for an excuse to talk longer.

“Sorry again about your shirt.” Dick started, keeping an eye out for cameras. “Want me to walk you back to wherever you're off to?”

Leia paused, glancing toward the street they’d come from. She bit her lip before looking back at him with a gentle smile, walls back up.

“It’s daylight, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the coffee.” She held the cup up in a salute, taking a sip of it. “Oh! Here.” She pulled the scarf off her neck then handed it back to him before he could protest.

“It was nice meeting you, Richard. Try not to spill your coffee on anyone else, yeah?” She laughed, the sound a melody he’d never heard before.

And just like that, she disappeared into the crowd.

Dick watched her go, standing in the middle of the crowded sidewalk, clutching the still warm scarf. It was as if her leftover heat crawled up his arm to his face, turning his cheeks and ears pink. He was brought away from his thoughts when someone bumped his shoulder. They didn’t bother apologizing, just continuing forward.

Dick scoffed under his breath, ignoring the heat and pulled his scarf back around his neck. The smell caught him off guard: baked goods and eucalyptus. He took a deep inhale of it without really thinking.

It made him feel…light.

He looked back in the direction Leia had gone and smiled to himself, toying with the ends of the scarf. He hasn't clicked with someone so quickly and genuinely in a long time. Sure, there had been Barbra, Kori, and more than a few others in between, but this was different.

If she picked up on who he was, he couldn’t tell. She treated him like he was just…normal. It was so rare for someone to treat him like that: to not look to him for answers, as the standard for a hero, or as a billionaire’s son but instead act as though he was just a person going about their day.

Dick couldn’t blame Jason for liking Leia in the slightest and he found himself hoping to see her again.

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badfanfictionaire · 1 month ago

Text

Five years, three days, and nine hours.

That’s how long he’s been in love with her.

The problem used to be that she was taken, betrothed to another man.

Lately there was an even bigger problem: she was missing.

And the other compounding problem was that Eddie was being blamed for her disappearance.

See, Chrissy had out of the blue asked to meet in the woods to buy some dope off of him. He didn’t say no, obviously, he wasn’t crazy enough to turn down the Queen herself. One thing had led to another, and while he didn’t end up making a sale, he did make plans. Chrissy was set to come by his place later, not to pick up weed but to borrow some tapes of his. But then she didn’t show. At first he thought she chickened out, but then when he saw on the news the next morning that she was missing, he went out to help look for her and found her bike propped up by the front step. He thought he could move it and no one would be any wiser, but someone had already seen it, because next thing he knew he was right there on the news next to her, but with wanted scrawled underneath his ugly mug.

Thank Satan for his friends, because they knew better than to believe everything they saw. They got his side of the story, and agreed to hide him away until they figured out what really happened to Chrissy Cunningham that night.

It was March, still a little too cold at night to do much more than sit inside and stare at the woods surrounding Rick’s boathouse. The kids had been by earlier to bring him some dinner and Steve had dropped off a case of beer. His stomach was full and he was a little drowsy. That’s why when the candle on the mantle place randomly flickered to life he thought maybe he was drunker, or more tired, than he realized. First of all, why did Rick of all people have a scented candle over his mantle place? As if that was going to cover up the smell of all the fucking weed. And second of all, why the fuck would he, Eddie Munson, have lit said scented candle?

“I need to go to bed,” he mutters to himself, blowing the candle out.

He turns off the light and goes to walk down the brief hall to the bedroom when the candle lights again.

“Umm, what the fuck?”

He rubs at his eyes, but the candle is still aflame.

“…Chrissy?” he asks the empty room, “If this is some sort of sick prank, you can stop now. I get it, poor little freak is about to shit his pants over a candle. Did Jason put you up to this?”

He moves to blow the candle out again but as he does a wave of cold air washes over him and he freezes.

“Come on Chrissy, I don’t like this.”

The candle flame flutters like someone is half heartedly blowing at it, but not enough to blow it out.

“Ok, um, I’m gonna leave. Please don’t burn down Rick’s place, he’ll kill me.”

The candle flickers again.

“Is that a no or a yes?!”

Nothing.

Frustrated he pulls at his hair. “Ok, ok, fine, I’ll play the game you creepy demon ghost thing. One flicker for yes, two for no, got it?”

The candle flame bobs once.

“Ok, cool, I’m officially fucking losing my mind.” If you can’t beat your delusions, join ‘em…

“So, are you Chrissy?”

One flicker.

“Wonderful, I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be haunted by. Um, ok, next question… are you, uh, dead?”

Two flickers.

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh thank fuck. Ok, so, just invisible then. That’s… unnerving. Have you been following me this whole time?”

One flicker.

“Cool cool cool. Can I like, undo this invisibility thing somehow?”

One flicker.

“Great, uh, ok, I might have to ask for some backup-”

The flame bobs twice.

“Hey, I’m a super senior here, I don’t exactly know how to undo voodoo. You’re going to have to let me bring in an expert on weird shit.”

One flicker.

“So we’re on the same page then, lovely. Fuck, why did you wait until today to contact me? I’ve been here for two fucking days, and you could have just candle messaged me in the trailer! Nope, you know what, it’s fine! I’m sure there’s a valid reason. Like… maybe it takes a long time for ghost powers to accumulate enough for candle magic.”

One flicker.

“Of course, because why would anything ever be easy right off the bat… I’m sorry I called you a demon... You haven’t been, like, watching me sleep or anything have you?”

Two flickers.

“Yeah, that would be weird.” It’s not like I don’t dream about you every night though… “Is there and easier way to do this? Is candle shit difficult?”

Two flickers.

“Ok, good.”

He plops down on the sofa and buries his face in his hands.

“Maybe we should call it a night, I’m not thinking clearly and you’re invisible. I think I need coffee before I can wrap my head around how you just poofed out of existence.”

The candle bobs twice and then goes out completely. The wave of cold air washes over him again and he realizes it’s Chrissy’s presence that he’s feeling.

Once again he starts for the bedroom, but then the faucet in the kitchen turns on full blast.

“Holy shit,” he shrieks, running to shut it off before the splashes completely soak everything. His hand is on the knob when he spies the glass coffee carafe being nudged along the counter toward him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Cunningham. I meant in the morning!”

He swears he can see her crossing her arms over her chest and pouting at him.

“Fine, fine. I imagine you’re anxious to be un-invisibled.”

Begrudgingly he fills the carafe and dumps the water in the machine. Once the pot is full enough he gets a mug down and then pauses.

“Can you drink or anything? Oh wait, how am I supposed to ask you without the candle?”

A fridge magnet lands on the counter.

“Uhh, ok. If it’s no, flip the magnet over I guess.”

The magnet flips to the backside.

“So no coffee then, got it.”

He pours himself a cup and adds some of the powdered creamer Rick keeps in a porcelain cow shaped container. There’s no sugar, so just cream it is.

After a few slurps he looks back over at the magnet. “This would be so much easier if you could just write shit down.”

The magnet flips so it’s on its side.

“Yeah, I know, too much to ask. Jesus H. Christ, I’m taking to a magnet right now, I mean I’m assuming I’m talking to a person but there’s a 50% chance I’m high as tits right now and I’m talking to a goddamn magnet.”

The magnet reattaches itself to the fridge, and instead a different magnet flops to the counter. This one is a cutout of Betty Boop riding a horse and twirling a lasso.

“Rick’s late wife was named Betty,” he tells Chrissy, “She didn’t look a thing like Betty Boop, but, that was what Rick called her. Boop, or Boopie, or Boopadoodle. Kind of disgustingly sweet in a stoner kind of way. I’m sure Carver called you all kinds of cute-”

The magnet aggressively flips over.

“Ok, Carver’s a sore subject I see. Well that’s alright sweetheart, we don’t have to talk about him. Rather not, actually, since he’s currently dying for my head on a pike over your being gone. Speaking of, do you have any idea how this happened?”

The magnet flips to its front.

“Genie?”

Back.

“Old hag?”

Nothing.

“Shooting star?”

Betty Boop reappears.

“Seriously? You what, wished on a shooting star to disappear, and you did? In my front yard nonetheless, Jesus H. Christ.”

He downs the rest of his coffee.

“So I’m assuming we probably need to un-wish this to bring you back onto the visible plane.”

Betty Boop stares at him.

“Fucking great,” he groans, “I’m definitely gonna have to bring in the geek squad for this, I have zero idea how to predict when there’s a suitable shooting star or if it’s just a fucking statillite. And I don’t want to fuck this up, because I kind of was looking forward to hanging out.”

Betty doesn’t move.

“Did you want to hang out?” he asks, suddenly feeling quite shy.

Betty stays put.

“Oh. Good. God, I wish I could hear your voice right now. Or I wish I could see your face at least, talking to my-”

The lights in the boathouse shut off abruptly.

“Chrissy, that’s not fucking funny!”

“That wasn’t me,” a voice says in the darkness.

Eddie scrambles for the light switch. And there, in the middle of Rick’s putrid yellow kitchen, is Chrissy Cunningham herself.

“Welcome back,” he smiles.

The sight of Chrissy smiling back at him is the best thing he’s ever seen in his whole fucking life.

👻👻👻👻

(Read on AO3)

#stranger things #eddie munson lives #fanfic #fanfiction #eddie x chrissy #edssy #hellcheer #hellcheer week 2024 #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham lives #chrissy cunningham

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bluejaysandblackbats · 4 months ago

Text

Lily of the Valley

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason Todd dies and comes back to life. As the League takes him in, he navigates his morality and family values over the years.

Chapters: 25/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Talia al Ghul, Ra’s al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Immortal Jason Todd, League of Assassins Jason Todd, Protective Talia al Ghul, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Jason Todd Needs a Hug, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Adopted Children, Resurrected Jason Todd

Chapter Twenty-Five: Water Lettuce

It took Jason a little longer than usual to recover from the pit. Talia cared for him, barring anyone other than Saru from seeing him. He struggled with fever and violent delirium for nearly two weeks. Saru pulled Talia out of the room. “Talia, it’s not good news. I found her,” Saru whispered.

“Is she—?” Saru nodded. “How long?” Talia asked.

“She’s been dead for maybe two or three days. I don’t—. Is he any better?” Saru questioned. Talia shook her head. “Will you tell him?”

“No. He’s in such a fragile state… I’m focused on—.”

“Please don’t try to bring her back… I love her, but I don’t want—. I can’t bear to see her suffer,” Jason whispered, his voice breaking as he leaned against the door. “Can you do me a favor? Please, I need you to—.” Jason turned his face away, nestling his forehead into the crook of his supporting arm. Talia reached for him, and his legs threatened to fold underneath him.

“You should be in bed,” Talia whispered.

Jason shook his head as Talia tried to lead him to bed. “This isn’t your fault. You shouldn’t feel bad. I know you. I know your heart and spirit. You didn’t take her life,” Jason mumbled. Talia nodded, trying to hold him up. “Can you do something for me?”

Talia nodded, her eyes searching for his gaze, desperate and fearful. “Whatever it is, consider it done,” Talia replied. Jason looked up, staring into her eyes. His strange eyes were bloodshot and feverish. He hadn’t cried… Not yet.

“Bury her in Gotham… Please, bury her in Gotham,” Jason pleaded. Talia nodded.

Saru turned away and left the room. “Consider it done,” Talia replied, “Now, please… Rest, my little one,” Talia whispered.

Jason nodded, allowing Talia to tuck him in. He grabbed her wrist. “Stop feeling guilty. I should be the one apologizing to you. My selfish heart forgot your kindness,” Jason whispered, “I won’t be this foolish twice.”

“Is love foolish, Jason? I know in my heart you forgave her a thousand times over. You will always have a place in your heart that aches for her, and I feel no ill will toward you for it. What can fill an endless space?” Talia whispered, “Now sleep. There are no more worries. There is only sleep.”

Jason’s fever finally broke the next day, and he awakened to a meal while Saru sat quietly beside him. “Saru?” Jason whispered. He propped himself up on his elbows. He could see something change in her eyes.

“I didn’t kill her, but I wasn’t upset that she died,” Saru confessed. Jason nodded. “How could you forgive her after what she’d done? “

Jason took her hand. “She’s my mother, Saru. Sometimes forgiveness is all we have. I can’t explain it. I love her. I can’t help how I feel. I don’t understand her, but I can forgive her. That power is mine and mine alone,” Jason whispered. Saru fed him a spoonful of soup. Jason smiled. “Thank you.”

“The depths of your kindness—. Jason, I wish I was more like you,” Saru whispered, “But I think loving you will suffice…”

“You’re kinder than I am… You just don’t see it that way,” Jason replied. Saru kissed his cheek.

“Are you just saying that because you’re hungry?” Saru questioned as she placed the food tray over his lap. The soup cooled enough to eat but not so much that it felt cold.

“No. I think you’re fiercely protective with a wonderful heart. I’ll never love anyone the way I love you,” Jason whispered. Saru gave Jason a sip of orange juice to build up his energy.

Talia returned, her hair dripping wet, and eyes red and swollen. It was the first time Jason had ever seen her in a state of disarray. She had a pair of sweatpants and an old band t-shirt on. “Ya amar? How are you feeling?” Talia asked.

Jason smiled. “I’m alright,” Jason replied. Saru lowered her gaze and passed by Talia on her way out. “Mama, thank you for bringing Saru along.”

“Jason… It’s alright if you’re upset. I—. I admit I wasn’t—.”

Jason turned away as the dam broke. He gasped and tears slid down his warm cheeks. “I thought of you the whole time,” Jason wept, “I thought about how you would’ve stopped it. You would’ve done anything to stop it. I cried for her, and she—. She let him kill me. She ran. I can’t help but think I deserved to die. It would’ve been better that way. I’m not fit to be your son—.”

“Lies!” Talia shouted. Jason sat up straight and silenced himself as his tears continued to flow. “I’ve known you for such a short time, but I would trade a million lifetimes if I could be your mother for the rest of this one… If you deserved to die you would’ve been granted that four years ago. You deserve more life than most, and I—. I want you to live it however you see fit. I’m sorry that this reunion wasn’t a sweet one, but I won’t allow you to believe you deserved this brutality.”

Talia fell asleep beside Jason that afternoon until he felt strong enough to climb out of bed. He grabbed his duffel and crept out of the hotel, using the window. He disappeared into the night before taking the first car ride out of the city. From there, he hitched a ride to the Kenyan border on the back of a truck and boarded a plane to Cape Town. He had to move quickly and unpredictably if he wanted to disappear. And he wanted to disappear.

Jason stayed in town for three days before stowing away on a cargo ship headed to his first destination. Talia left Jason a list of important contacts in the journal she gave him for his birthday. He decided it’d be best to train with them all before returning home. He wanted to become a better resource to his family, instead of an eternally expendable resource. He made a pact with himself to return home after he was strong enough. It didn’t matter how long it took. He’d travel the world, going through Talia’s contacts until he could prove himself again.

He wanted to be able to look at Talia, Ra’s, and Damian without feeling weak. In the dark cramped space in the cargo ship, he relapsed into his fever and nearly succumbed to madness. The sound of the voices on the upper deck and the gasp of fresh air when the ship went quiet at night were all that kept him sane on the month-long trip to Australia. He ate scraps and snuck in the kitchen whenever he could manage it. It wasn’t until an old man came and sat beside him, eating an apple with a knife, that Jason regained his senses. He thought it was a hallucination. “If I give you half of my orange and don’t tell anyone you’re down here, will you promise to let me eat in peace?” the man questioned. Jason nodded. The man plopped half of the fresh orange in Jason’s open hands. “Wait.” He dropped a handful of basil leaves into Jason’s hand. “Eat those first.”

Jason obeyed, chewing the basil leaves as the boat rocked. After he finished chewing the leaves, he ate the orange, and quietly watched the older man. “The Demon’s Head said you might be here. He told me not to disturb you… Instead, he wanted me to ensure you don’t die or get buried before you get where you’re headed… I didn’t believe you’d be here… And I wasn’t sure you’d like what I had to say,” the older man explained.

“And then you’ll tell him where I am?” Jason asked. He shook his head.

“We were told not to report that we’ve seen you if we have. You’re much better at staying hidden than I expected. Had you been in your right mind, I never would’ve found you,” the man replied. Jason tensed up, realizing that the man was right. He wasn’t in his right mind. He’d have to get that in check if he wanted to be good enough to protect Damian.

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